


Omega Is King

by Pondermoniums



Series: Omega Is King [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alpha Billy Hargrove, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Steve, Asexuality Spectrum, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Intersex Will Byers, Keg Drinking competition, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Steve, Pining, Protective Steve Harrington, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Favorable, Some Graphic Language, Steve Harrington has a heart of gold, Swim Team, Switching, Vomiting, and is way more resourceful in this than canon, graphic bodily functions, sex neutral
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:35:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: The first party for which Steve got a flyer shoved into his hands was a turning point for Hawkins High. Nobody knew it, least of all Steve himself, that it was the day he would became King.Fast forward to Billy Hargrove walking into town, ready to carve his place in it. Except the rules are different here. An omega is king. Alphas follow him around like he polishes the stars and even after Billy breaks the king's keg record, the omega doesn't respond at all to the alpha who wants to be the moon in front of those stars. Then again, Steve Harrington has never responded quite...normally...to any of the alphas.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Omega Is King [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924309
Comments: 60
Kudos: 264
Collections: Mad Wet Rat Boy and Fluffy haired Doofus





	1. King

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was supposed to be a short fic u_u I failed. And I'm overeager, so here's the first chapter haha
> 
> This fic does eventually feature sex-favorable activity between grey_ace Steve and alpha Billy. I, myself, identify as grey ace, and wanted to explore a character trying to figure out their sexuality. But I don't want anybody on the ace spectrum being uncomfortable if you lean more on the sex-repulsed side. No hard feelings if you gotta dip out :)
> 
> [Moodboard!~](https://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/post/626560261391794176/pondermoniums-i-may-or-may-not-have-4-chapters)

The first party for which Steve got a flyer shoved into his hands was a turning point for Hawkins High. Nobody knew it, least of all Steve himself, that it was the day he would became King.

He saw the eyes following him through the halls. Guys and girls alike, but that didn’t matter when you were an omega who knew how to take care of themself. Pheromones and DNA could go a long way, especially for pubescent train wrecks, but Steve was more than your average high school mess of a kid. Classmates who had known him his entire life suddenly showered before school and wore their older siblings’ jackets to look cool. To look and smell older than they were. Girls discovered lip gloss and stole upper classmen’s underwear to make themselves smell more…just _more_.

Steve had laughed for a solid five minutes when Carol first told him that. She’d had quite a shock during her first gym class.

“I thought alphas were supposed to be the pervs who stole people’s underwear,” he chuckled around his sandwich.

She shook her head around a disgusted, indignant, and she would never admit it, but aroused, sigh. She encapsulated the overall freshman state of being. They were all confused and overwhelmed deer in the headlights of grown up things. “Just bring a lock for your gym locker, all right? Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Steve didn’t. He put his gym shirt and shorts in two ziplock bags to seal in his smell and washed his clothes every night. He refused to be afraid of this place. He had to spend eight hours, five days a week here? Then they’d all be stuck in here with him, not the other way around. But if he wanted to rile things up, he would leave one of his shirts in that locker. He would leave an article of clothing in _both_ his lockers if he really wanted to get some attention.

They never went missing—that impressed him—but all eyes followed his growth spurt height, wide shoulders, and glossy hair through the halls. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t give him a heady feeling, but where he dimly shined in class, he ruled in navigating people. Maybe it’s an omega thing. Maybe it’s a Steve thing, but he used it on full blast.

So when he hopped onto the overcrowded kitchen counter of some senior’s house to peruse the bottles of alcohol at his leisure, he didn’t blink twice at the crescendo of noise outside. The chanting of _Fight! Fight! Fight!_ explained things, but he wanted to see what all the fuss was about with gin and tonics—

“They’re fighting over you, you know.”

Steve peered up at the junior who looked equal parts concerned and annoyed by him. Steve put that on the back burner for later. It would prove the standard for how people responded to him.

His eyes flicked to the French doors, open wide for the crowd on the back porch looking down over the alphas fighting. Steve just poured tonic water over what was probably far too much gin and snorted softly. “I didn’t make them do that.”

The girl stood astounded for all of ten seconds and then strode away from him. Steve tasted his drink and blinked through the burn of gin. It tasted like a weird Christmas tree in his mouth. He twisted around to set his cup among all the other trash and debris on the counter, but his eyes landed on a jar of maraschino cherries. Sliding off the counter, he poured most of the syrup into the sink and dumped whatever amount of his drink could fit amongst the cherries.

Much better. A snack and a beverage all in one.

But then the seniors broke up the fight long enough for someone to spill Steve’s drink in the process of hauling him outside. It was a different heady feeling, standing in an arena of kids burning with alcohol but frigid with autumn sweat. Half of these people would be coming to school with flu symptoms next week, but Steve didn’t laugh about it since a _lot_ of alphas were staring him in the face.

“Listen, freshman, you’re going to get eaten alive unless you learn how things run here,” said a senior who did a good job speaking while holding one of the combatants.

Steve shook his head and sipped from his jar of cherries and gin. “I didn’t make them fight. I don’t even know these guys.”

An alpha woman spoke next to the senior. Steve guessed they were mates, considering neither of them responded to him. All at once, Steve _liked_ that. Alphas who didn’t drool over him. Alphas who were bored just by looking at him. It gave him relief.

“Kid, it’ll be best if you just choose one and stick with them. Far less fights will break out, and that way teachers and parents won’t blame you for anything.”

“Blame me?” He wanted so desperately to laugh. Steve’s relationship with his dad was rocky, at best, but he would almost love to see Mr. Harrington’s ferocity over his son being the center of a hurricane named Hawkins.

Well. Unless his dad decided to take the easy route and blame him too.

“How about this,” he switched tracks, and felt the crowd around him lean back with their inhalations. An omega taking charge of a situation, what a concept. “There doesn’t need to be a fight. There’s a keg somewhere, right?”

The seniors began to smirk at him. The original guy looked at him almost fondly. “Yeah, why?”

Steve shrugged like this was just another Friday night. “Simple keg competition. Winner has dibs.”

The raging alphas cooled down instantly. They stood on their own without being held back and glanced at each other. They both smirked and agreed, equally cocky that they’d beat each other at drinking upside down the longest.

The tone of the party changed and the redhead won. Steve gave him a slap on the back in congratulations, and picked up the nozzle with a glance behind him at the alpha who’d been holding the guys’ feet up. “You just gonna stand there?”

The crowd had gone silent. The senior in charge of things came to stand next to Steve. “What are you doing?”

Steve couldn’t help smiling at the softness in the guy’s voice. He genuinely cared. Steve hoped the alpha woman married him. “Well I plan on winning. What, I can’t compete for my own pussy?”

Silence.

And then the girls _crowed_ with glee. Steve had never seen so many men look so much like frightened sheep in his life, and he loved it. He kicked a foot back, and the alpha took it with his other ankle, and the crowd began to count.

Clearly none of these idiots knew much about omegas. The few who were here stood distinctly silent among the crowd. Steve winked at one, a girl with massive glasses and a wary smile on her face. Because the thing about omegas, is they have heats. And heats demand a _lot_ of calories. Not to mention, half of these asshole alphas were on his swim team, and to be junior varsity before the first semester is over involves a lot of fucking work.

Steve could _eat_. His lanky form didn’t give that away, so when the numbers being shouted around him went higher and higher along with everyone’s excitement and awe, Steve just kept going. Focusing on inhaling through his nose as his mouth filled, trained to control his breathing by years of swimming. Trained to not panic when he felt overwhelmed by liquid.

He stopped when the crowd went absolutely nuts. He had a feeling he would have to do this again, and he didn’t want to establish a record he would struggle to beat later on. So he just outmatched his opponent by three seconds, and popped off the hose. The alpha with his legs and the moderating senior were _gentle_ with him, both of them setting him down and holding onto him while he stabilized—

The belch that came out of him tried to drag his lungs out with it. As he focused on filling them back up, the alphas around him laughed and applauded. Even the losers gazed at him with admiring eyes instead of bitter resentment. It took another moment for Steve to absorb the chanting of _King! King! King!_ around him, but he felt _good_. He felt strong.

So began Steve’s legacy of having alphas following in his wake, but never with dark eyes or panting mouths. Alphas walked him to class, crowded around him during swim practice because they _liked_ him. And whenever someone tried to stake a claim, Steve reminded the whole school that the one deciding what to do with Steve’s body was Steve.

That was freshman year.

Sophomore year, he learned how to fight.

With the hierarchy always changing, alphas newly instated as juniors or seniors thought they were suddenly special. With Steve being Keg King and varsity on a state championship swim team, things got feisty. Because at his core, Steve had a damn heart, and it broke when he saw omegas glance at him with sheer terror on their faces. Downright pleading, _why do you get respect but I can’t?_

He took to strolling through the freshman halls again. All it took was an upper classman to get the alpha runts to lay off, but soon his swim team brethren joined him. They enjoyed being knights to the king.

The school _prospered_. Omegas smiled with ease. They didn’t rush between classes with their heads ducked anymore. Everyone knew which locker was King Steve’s. Everyone knew he wedged a pencil under the lever, keeping it unlocked at all times. The omegas knew to stick a note in his algebra book.

Of course some of the alphas _despised_ Steve. But whenever this was drawn to Steve’s attention, he would only laugh and say, “Dude, it’s high school. If I’m the pinnacle of someone’s problems here, they’ll be praying for me after they graduate.”

The fights still happened. All it took was a look or strong word to put a freshman in line, but Steve was still only a sophomore to everybody else.

Using his body outside of the water had a steep learning curve, but he learned it and quick. The thing keeping him out of permanent trouble was the track and field coach breaking up one of the first fights. After seeing how light on his feet and quick Steve could be, the coach desperately wanted him to do track in the spring. Having coaches argue over him was a weird experience, but it kept Steve’s dad off his back. Hell, it made Mr. Harrington _proud_.

And then junior year and Nancy happened.

Steve had played around a little, sure. Wanted to see what all the fuss around sex was about. He hadn’t been impressed, really, but then Nancy Wheeler became the subtlest alpha he had ever scented. Far more like a beta, she never got in anyone’s face. She minded her own business and used her alpha hardheadedness to get the grades she wanted.

Nancy reminded Steve of that first alpha from the party: self-assured, and above all, a relief to Steve’s senses. The fact that she really wanted to study more than fuck him threw him, at first.

“Was this your plan all along? To get in my room and then get another notch in your belt?”

Steve’s belt wasn’t exactly full of holes beyond the standard, factory produced ones, and something about the accusation rubbed Steve the wrong way. “No—Nancy, no—”

He looked down at the bed while she accused, “I’m not Laurie. Or Amy. Or Becky—”

Laurie had been his first time. A mild regret, what with how she blasted her success in getting Steve Harrington into bed all over the school. Amy had been a thankful rebound after he dropped Laurie like a hot rock. Becky had never even happened. But when you’re king and omega, the sheeple will believe anything.

Admittedly, he lashed out, turning the shame right back on Nancy. “You mean, you’re not a slut.”

Nancy diffused immediately. That’s what he liked about her. She didn’t realize she had slut-shamed _him_ , but she never did it again.

When they did have sex, it was nice. Nicer than any he’d had so far, at least. With it being Nancy’s first time, Steve could be patient, working the both of them into readiness since he needed a bit more time to get there. It felt good, learning her body and making her cum on their first try. He liked Nancy a whole lot and having her trust him enough to do that sent a giddy thrill through him.

Then he passed out, because sex is exhausting. Everybody else seemed to use sex like a beautiful reset button, but Steve preferred sleep and swimming for that.

Things were great. He studied with Nancy and his grades actually went up—not that it mattered with his varsity status. He never pressured Nancy to attend his swim meets or track races. It was Nancy who actually succeeded in getting him on the track team in the spring. He became fully committed to morning workouts with his swim team, afternoon practice on the track—which was crashed by the swim team half the time.

Steve loved it. If anyone had told him high school would go this well when he first practiced using hair spray the summer after middle school, he would’ve turned away, thinking them a liar. As an omega, the future was bleak. As a Harrington, the future was still bleak but had a nice lacquer on top of it.

But this? Friends everywhere he looked, an actual future ahead of him featuring sport scholarships, a girlfriend who helped keep his grades up and who was getting more and more confident in bed? King Steve, indeed.

The only thing that got in the way was that last part. Steve never refused Nancy anything. He didn’t mind—far from it, sex was something he was good at learning. School, where a book and a brain were required? No, but anything physical, and Steve picked it up with ease. Swimming, running, sex, he could do it all in a mindless state of meditation.

So it really hit from left field when Nancy confronted him about his heats.

“Can I, um…can I ask you something?”

He glanced at her over the picnic table on which they sat. Summer before senior year was going great. The heat had taken a break all week, so Steve had put together a picnic basket full of more food than was feasible between two people. Well, unless one of them was Steve.

“Yeah,” he’d chimed, looking out over the lake and keeping an eye on the wasps bobbing over wildflowers. He peeked at her when she took a little too long to continue.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, but it was full of nerves. “It’s unfair of me to ask—it’s really personal—”

He chuckled, stabbing a fork into their bowl of watermelon and grapes. “Nance, it’s me. You’re with me, it’s okay. What do you want to ask?”

She inhaled, feeling emboldened. “It’s just…we never spend heats together.”

Steve looked up properly this time, inducing her words to come out quickly. “It’s not that I mind! I just don’t want…I don’t want you to feel like—like you can’t? Be with me, I mean?”

A smile curved his lips as he pushed her hair behind her ear. “Thanks, that means a lot, but I don’t have heats.”

She blinked, and then her tone changed. Her nerves left to make way for the nosy Nancy deduction. “What? What do you mean? Mike’s omega friends have a heat every other month. Jonathan stays home to take care of Will all the time.”

Steve shrugged with a gentle shake of his head. “I’m required to take hormone regulating pills since I do sports. You have to regulate everything to be sure a heat doesn’t come right before a competition. But during freshman year, when it came time to switch to sugar pills, nothing happened. I mean, I _do_ have heats, but not nearly as often.”

Nancy took a while absorbing that. “Oh…Jonathan and I have been talking and…it sounds really hard. I didn’t want you to deal with that alone.”

He smiled again. Nancy was really one of a kind. “Will’s still a kid, so it’s different for him. It’s still hard, either way, but I can manage.”

“But,” she pressed, “is it healthy to go so long between heats?”

Steve had to wait to chew and swallow his sandwich to say, “I have heat inducers. The docs think that—kinda like how women’s body fat and activity determine period patterns—that me being an athlete has to do with it.”

He disagreed with the doctors, but she didn’t need to know that. He finished, “I induce a heat a couple times a year.”

“A couple?” she frowned. “How often would you have them without pills?”

He stared, wide-eyed at the grass like the wasps might work together to hold up a sign. “I don’t know…at least once a year, right? Probably.”

That conversation _probably_ should have been Steve’s yellow flag.

* * * * *

“God, this place is such a shithole.”

Billy meant it when he said it as they passed the Welcome to Hawkins sign, and he meant it every day since. Even worse, Max was officially due to start presenting as something, so Billy was stuck looking after her. Part of Billy felt proud—the part that would never admit to such a thing—because there was no way the little shit could be anything but alpha. That promise helped get him through his first week in Hawkins, at least. The promise that Max would be able to handle herself soon and he would be free to fuck and fight as much as he wanted.

Not like he didn’t do that ahead of time. He landed in some beta girl’s bed on day one of Hawkins High; left his smell all over her bed, to the point that she’d have to air out or steam clean the mattress if she wanted to try having someone else over without offending them.

That amused him so much, he was ready to walk through the halls with all of his hair sprayed flags standing at their lockers; his and only his for a window of time.

Except that got cut short on day two.

Billy smelled a strange mixture of chlorine and fresh laundry surround him at his locker. He peered at the guy next to him and his letterman jacket. Hawkins Swim Team. Varsity. That explained the smell.

“Yeah?” he greeted without any preamble.

“You’re making some of the omegas uncomfortable and you haven’t even been here a week. We’d like to ask you to stop.”

Billy huffed through a smirk. “Stop what? I’m at my locker for my books. That’s pretty standard where I come from.”

One of the others spoke next, a tall, skinny guy. Were all the swim people tall?

“You’re in Hawkins now. Things run differently here.”

“Yeah, hard to miss,” Billy scoffed, but the reaction around him was oddly…dead. They didn’t even blink at him.

The first guy spoke again with finality. “Just be respectful. If an omega says no, they mean it. You don’t get to wave your dick around here like you might’ve wherever you came from.”

Billy narrowed his eyes at them, but before he could say anything, a new voice chimed in, “Hey, guys.”

It had the alphas rotating on a dime, like Billy didn’t matter. Billy felt small. He did not like that feeling one bit—

Except his eyes also fell on the man strolling down the hall. His dark hair matched the swim team’s: wet and combed back, drying from a recent shower. Unlike the others, he looked to be a little slower in regards to being ready for school. He seemed to be in the middle of stuffing a jacket into his backpack, or pulling it out since his strong, lithe frame stood in only a t-shirt and varsity sweatpants.

He stood shorter than the others, but only just taller than Billy.

Those large, brown eyes gave up on whatever he was doing and navigated between his friends before landing hard on Billy. “We good?” he crooned.

The alpha who first hassled him answered, “We’re good,” and they collectively backed off with lingering, warning stares at Billy.

Billy, who could only watch, dumbfounded, as the alphas threw their arms around this guy’s neck. Hugging him good morning as if they hadn’t just left the same gymnasium together. Watched as one took his backpack and properly extracted the damn jacket so another could take it to place on his shoulders.

Because the guy was an omega.

“Coach is gonna be on you again if you get sick, man, come on.”

“It’s hotter than hell outside and the air conditioning to half my classes is busted. I think I’ll be fine,” he replied, opening and closing his hand for his backpack, but the alpha held onto it.

“I got it, calm down.”

“I’m calm. I want my breakfast.”

“You got food in there?”

“Hey, hey, hey! Dipshits!” the omega barked as they began taunting him with his own backpack on their way through the halls.

Billy could only watch with open-mouthed mystification.

* * * * *

“Yeah, that’s Steve,” the chick named Carol laughed. She’d sat right down at his table with her friends.

One of whom, elaborated, “King Steve.”

Billy stared at her with a menacing tilt of his head. “Excuse me?”

Carol rolled her eyes. “King of parties, captain of the swim team, blah blah. If you wanna be a part of the cool crew, it circulates around him.”

“But he’s an omega,” he said.

Carol and her friends only smirked at him. What was with the people in this town?

“Yeah. That’s why you got cornered this morning. Alphas can do whatever to each other, but you step out of line towards an omega? You’ll have two sports teams on top of you before you can even say ‘alpha.’ ”

“What do you mean, two sports teams?”

“He’s on the track team too, dummy.”

One of Carol’s friends nudged her. “He’s not dumb. He just got here.”

“You’re telling me,” Billy interrupted, “that an omega is captain of the swimming team and participates in two sports, at that?”

Carol nodded like the punch line was still coming. “State champion swim team. Idiot gets away with a lot because the track and swim coaches fought over him for two and a half years.”

Billy leaned back in his seat, seriously considering abandoning his lunch. Not only was Hawkins proving to be the weirdest town on its own, he now had one Steve Omega Harrington to deal with.

And Billy _wanted_ him. The smell that had arrived with him in those soft pants, that gently rumpled t-shirt…clean and warm and something else… Neck just _open_ like that, sending his aroma directly to Billy’s brain with his body made hot from exercise and showering. How the hell he was able to not get…well, _jumped_ would be putting it kindly, by his own teammates was some kind of miracle…

Carol’s friends were staring at him, scared and a little turned on. Carol just ate her green beans with a smile like she knew way too much.

* * * * *

Billy made a point to observe Harrington up until a certain party drew nearly every soul in the school under one domestic roof. Billy had seen just about everything during his teen years: alphas fighting for no reason at all, alphas fighting over omegas, omegas fighting over alphas…but nobody fought over Steve. Nobody fought at _all_ here.

That was…weird. A _relief_ , honestly, but Billy didn’t trust it. Seeing the reigning senior greet a pair of freshmen omegas by his locker and then walk them to class was just way too fairytale for Billy’s reality. Seeing alphas throw their arms around Steve, bury their faces in his hair, laugh and jeer and downright manhandle the omega every spare moment they got… Billy was losing his damn mind by the time the flyer got shoved into his hand. _Tina’s Halloween Bash._

“Dress up!” he heard a girl call through the crowd in between classes. “It’s the sluttiest time of year!”

That earned some laughs around him, even a chuckle from himself. His attention soon drew to someone saying, “You think the alphas are going to stay on the keg the whole night?”

“Of course they are. Idiots are always trying to beat King Steve’s record.”

Billy tapped the edge of the flyer against his lip. What was Steve’s record, exactly?

* * * * *

Nancy was _pissed_.

Steve had a hunch as to why but she refused to talk about it, and things were beginning to boil over. They hadn’t had sex since that summer, and Steve’s athletic obligation kept him more and more occupied. And he may have cancelled some dates to avoid her when he felt sore and wanted sleep. He could understand being pent up, but taking it out on the punch bowl didn’t seem like the best idea. Steve considered himself a connoisseur of bad ideas, so he assumed the role of guarding Nancy from the rest of the party—and vice versa.

“Aren’t you going outside?” she asked from her place beside the living room window. The two of them had only split a beer so far, but Steve was desperately trying to figure out how to reroute their night for the better.

“I don’t need to go outside. I want to stay with you, if that’s okay?”

He didn’t touch her; he knew a boundary rested between them, but he smiled when she relaxed. “Yeah. It’s okay, I guess,” she said, but a wave of noise crashed through the house from the back yard right then. The kind of noise a crowd makes when something is scored, or won.

“Jesus,” Steve laughed. “Guess I’ll have my work cut out for me next time.”

“You sure you shouldn’t go outside?” she insisted.

“No way, I came to dance with you. And to show off that I look better than Tom Cruise in anything.”

Her eyes rolled and a reluctant smile warmed her face. Steve took the chance to fix the stray hairs escaping her hair spray, gently brushing them back with his fingertips. “You know, I was thinking,” he shifted his weight off the wall, “about what we talked about this summer? At our picnic?”

He couldn’t read her expression. She nodded that she understood, but he didn’t know if her frown meant he was off the mark, that she didn’t want to talk about it, or—

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

For anyone wondering who disliked Steve Harrington, here they were, taking the first chance they got to corner him in nothing short of a kids’ underage drinking party. Steve removed his sunglasses while they heckled him, taking note of each of their faces for later, especially the hothead front and center. Steve recognized him from school—he was hard to miss, and plenty of girls crooned the name _Billy Hargrove_.

Steve only saw an incredibly wet alpha smelling like cheap beer and sweat. He wasn’t impressed. Nice face and okay hair, but Nancy had wasted no time in getting out of there.

Billy’s eyes sharpened when Steve turned away from him to watch her go. He stepped forward, right into King Steve’s space, causing him to look Billy dead in the eye.

“Congrats, man,” he said without any emotion in his eyes. Steve didn’t care. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

The guy named Tommy yelled, “Harrington! Where are you going? You gonna get on the keg or what?”

“I’m giving the new kid some time to feel special. I’ll be back for the next party,” he excused himself, rushing after Nancy.

Billy huffed with a look at Tommy. “What’s so special about his keg record if he doesn’t give a rat’s ass?”

Tommy took a drag on a cigarette before answering, “Freshman year. Alphas fought over him, so Steve proposed a keg competition. Nobody expected the winner to have to go up against Steve himself. Steve won, and the law of the land has been different ever since. Every time someone beats his record, he gets back on the keg just to prove a fucking point.”

Now Billy…Billy _liked_ that. Almost felt like kicking himself, he should’ve asked a long time ago what the deal was with this place and that damn King title. _One_ guy held this place in line from alpha bullshit? Billy wanted to drag Steve outside and hold his legs up himself, if nothing else than to have Steve’s entire focus on him and be dependent on him. Or just go find Tina’s room and throw Steve on top of the bed.

* * * * *

“It’s…bullshit.”

“No, it’s not bullshit, Nancy—”

The party was going swimmingly. Okay, so pulling her off the punchbowl could have gone leagues better, but at least she got to the bathroom without any coercion. Camping in here was both the best and worst place while he tried to sober her a little and she failed to get the spectacular stain out of her white sweater. Their time was limited and he officially wanted to take her home, but Nancy had to come to that decision herself.

“—Just let me take you home—”

“No, _you_! You’re bullshit. Jonathan never says the shit you do.”

“Wh-What?” he stammered, completely off guard.

Big, drunk eyes gazed up at him. She shoved the words out, “You’re pretending like—like everything is okay. Like, everything is great! Like we’re in love—a happy whatever couple, when we haven’t done shit for months because you’re _fine_ without heats? Like that’s normal—and we’re normal for not spending them together. You know, you really make me feel like trash, you know that?”

Steve had no idea what to do with that. “Like we’re in… _I_ make you feel like trash?”

“Yeah! You know last year? When you and I were fighting—and everything with Will—and you went over to Jonathan’s but I was there? He didn’t accidentally get his heat. He _trusted_ me to take care of him.”

“Last year?” Steve repeated hollowly.

Nancy groaned down at her sweater. “Ugh, we didn’t _do_ anything. Obviously—you remember the—the thing. That’s not the point.”

No. The point was that heats were _private_ and damn near _sacred_ , and Nancy had just gone and—and…

Steve took a step back, mentally reeling. Here she was, hounding him over not sharing a heat with her, but she had just gone and casually prepared to share someone else’s? A _year_ ago?

“What is the point?” he murmured, wanting to hear it from her own lips. But she wasn’t listening. Steve cradled her cheek like she might break, gently guiding her attention back to him. “You don’t love me?”

“It’s…bullshit.”

It had been a long time since Steve had felt like…like…well, like an omega. Inadequate. Easily disposable. And not enough.

He pushed himself past her and out of the bathroom, heading for the front door. As if fate wasn’t done with him, there was Jonathan himself, looking extremely out of place at the Halloween party but not as much as he would’ve been _a year ago_.

“Bathroom,” Steve growled in passing. He knew Jonathan’s head turned toward him, but he didn’t stick around. The front door slammed behind him.

Steve’s own house stood empty when he walked in. Not that he minded; the last thing he needed right now was his dad being a territorial dick and confronting him about entering the house in a huff.

He threw his costume in the laundry hamper and stood under the shower, letting the water flatten his pompadour before he soaped up. Afterward, he toweled off only to pull his towel robe around him, soft and plush and comforting. He took a while to clean his ears, just letting the cotton swab tickle the outskirts of his ear canal before he looked up at the small calendar hanging beside his mirror. Underneath it on the counter, were his pill bottles. Blue, green, and pink labels, with marker stamps of corresponding ink colors.

Everyday of October had been stamped with the green marker.

The first week of November, he had gone ahead and stamped it with blue, for sugar pills.

The second week he stamped with pink. Heat days.

He had already checked ahead with his swim coach. The season was over apart from a tournament being held during winter break. The coach agreed it would be a good idea to have his heat well before then. Cleared him of his classes and everything.

Steve’s eyes dragged between the date, circled so he would know when to start easing into inducement pills…and the day before that, on which he’d drawn a crude little suitcase underneath Nancy’s name, having expected to invite her over for the week.

He scratched out nearly the whole day, turned the lights off, and went downstairs to make something warm to drink.

* * * * *

Nothing changed at school. It appeared the Keg King had made a lasting impression on how the school operated, and Billy’s new record didn’t mean much.

Not that he cared. Not when everyone was whispering about how Steve had left Nancy in the bathroom, drunk and messy—and left for one Jonathan Byers to clean up.

That screamed _breakup_ to Billy. Purred _available_ right in his ear.

He drove over to the big, fancy swim-nasium on the outskirts of town. When Billy had first heard the term _swimnasium_ , he felt like smacking the sophomore who said it, but now, as he strolled through the front doors, he understood the hype. The gym and Olympic pool were worth bragging about, and what’s more, all he needed was his Hawkins student id to use it? He grinned like a wolf at the beta behind the front desk. “Thank you very much.”

He made a mental note to check later if coming here could opt him out of gym class. Not that he disliked winning the basketball games, but the showers were shit, and there was only so much pheromone sweat that he could take outside of his own.

Shoes were required to go in lockers if he wanted to stroll around the pool area. And since a familiar, solitary figure seemed to be using it on the other side of the glass doors, Billy went to the locker room. He had his gym shorts in his bag, due for a washing, but he slipped them on since it didn’t make much sense to wear jeans around a pool.

He passed through the glass doors in his shorts and t-shirt. Steve waded in the water, his shoulders and head buoyed by a donut float. The plastic was crimped to look like it had a bite out of it and everything. His calves and feet rested on the concrete and tile around the pool, anchoring him to the side.

“No practice today?”

Steve’s only reaction to his arrival was the opening of his eyes and closing them again. “What do you want, Hargrove?”

Instead of answering that particular question, he countered, “Can anyone use the pool?”

“Have you showered?”

He frowned. “You’re supposed to shower before using it?”

“It’s polite.”

Tempted as he was to jump right in, Billy knew his shorts would slide right off his ass. Maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing…but as he stood over Harrington’s legs, the omega gave no reaction to his scent drifting over him. His nostrils didn’t flare with his inhalations, his cheeks did not flush…nothing.

Billy settled for sitting on the edge of the pool, his legs shin-deep in the heated water. His gaze went straight to Steve’s pelvis, mildly disappointed to see turquoise swimming trunks instead of a speedo. Then again…goggles and a swim cap were nowhere to be seen either. “No practice today?” he repeated.

“Not on Wednesdays.”

“You get one day off during the week and still come here?”

“It clears my head.”

“Of a certain Wheeler?”

“What do you want, Hargrove?”

Steve’s eyes _did_ open when Billy grasped his ankles. Using his feet around Steve’s hips, Billy tugged him sideways through the water and set his ankles back down on either side of Billy’s thighs. Steve’s ass brushed over the tops of his feet, a pleasant feeling of soft flesh and muscle.

“At the risk of sounding like a bad romance novel, I want you.”

Steve’s eyes rolled all the way closed. Billy wasn’t sure what to make of his comfort level since he didn’t try to remove his legs from Billy’s hands. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I know you’re single.”

“Not really. And get in line.”

“What, you want one more drunk argument to finalize things? And there is no line. I’m king of the keg now.”

“You’re just another dickhead alpha if you really think that means anything,” Steve sighed. A tiny flame of anger flickered in Billy’s chest, but it couldn’t light the downright fondness he felt over this bastard. Steve finished, “You just want what you can’t have. That’s all there is to it.”

Billy let his eyes wander over Steve instead of responding. He had a point. This was the first conversation he and Steve had ever had.

“What did you and Wheeler fight about?”

“None of your business.”

“I expected more people to have something to say about that Jonathan kid, but it seems you and he are friends? What’s that about?”

Steve posed narrow eyes on him. “Are you always this nosy?”

“Considering he’s the guy stealing your girl, don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Nobody steals anybody at this school. Don’t you know that by now?”

“Are you saying _you_ broke up with her?” Billy piqued. Steve would be extremely available, if that were the case.

Steve shifted on the float, his fingertips pushing into the plastic. “I’m saying you have a lot of gall to think I owe you anything when you haven’t so much as left a nice note in my locker. It’s also really fucking bold of you to think I share.”

He slid down and out of his donut as easily as if it had been oiled. His legs were in the water in an instant, pushing against the wall so Steve moved like an otter away from Billy. Blue eyes followed his backstroke, slow and casual but sure. Steve had the clear intention of avoiding Billy’s side of the pool, even if it meant swimming perpendicular to the lanes. It gave Billy the time to consider his reputation as an alpha who didn’t settle, who moved from bedmate to bedmate.

Billy’s head tilted ever so slightly, smirking at the young man doing an excellent impression at ignoring him. But Steve Harrington didn’t ignore him, hadn’t ignored him all semester. He paid attention and knew Billy’s record.

And he didn’t want to share.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little convinced I rushed Billy's perspective because I feel like there's a distinct lack of violence for him to be in character lol but we're meant to revolve around Steve anyway. I like how it's turning out so far!
> 
> But thanks for reading! I'm really enjoying writing this. Ever since I took the plunge into the Harringrove fandom, it's been nothing but delightful. Like, seriously, it's a problem. Someone save me. I have shit to do.
> 
> I have marked this as having 10 chapters - it should be less than that by the time I'm finished, but with my track record, it could blow up to any number.
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
> [Tumblr~](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/)


	2. Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We meet Will in this chapter and his intersexuality is explained. He's intersex hormonally, not physically. I have seen other a/b/o writers who like to make their omega characters physically intersex; I personally don't really imagine them like this but I'm not about to stop readers from living their best lives haha I just wanted to give this brief disclaimer because I don't want anybody offended by the intersex label being used in a slightly different way.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Friday arrived with Steve making a decision. He either needed to clear the air with Nancy or settle it for good. He didn’t necessarily want to settle a breakup, but he also wasn’t entirely sure how pushing his heat on her would solve anything.

Because he’d seen the way she and Jonathan look and talk to each other all year. He even liked Jonathan—fuck, the guy is one of the few who landed a solid punch on him so many months ago. Steve had deserved it, had been so used to managing alphas, that meeting another omega who didn’t take any shit had thrown him for a loop. But Jonathan was kind and soft spoken and, frankly, right up Nancy’s alley.

Steve could swallow his pride and apologize for hurting her. He could do that much at the very least. Whether Nancy was keen enough to apologize right back would probably determine how things panned out. Because Steve had a heat coming, and while he originally wanted Nancy to be a part of it, now he…he _didn’t_ trust her. A heat wasn’t some badge to wear on an alpha’s jacket. It was an incredibly vulnerable time on its own, and with Steve having so few of them? The next week was going to be a doozy.

He already felt his body adjusting over the week of sugar pills. Felt it in the way his body ached in different, abnormal places as he got out of his car with a bouquet of roses and sidled on over the Wheeler’s front yard—

“Steve!”

He had been going over his apology so much in his head and under his breath, that he faced Dustin Henderson with a dumb stare. “Huh?”

“I need your help. Now. Nice flowers, these for Nancy?”

“Wha—Um. Yeah?” He could only gape at the kid taking the flowers right back to Steve’s car.

“She’s not here.”

“What? Where is she?”

Dustin rattled off, “I don’t know and that’s the issue because she’s likely with Jonathan, and none of us can get ahold of them, but you’re the next best thing. Do you have a weapon?”

Steve’s brows knit low over his eyes and gaping mouth. He’s omega, of course he has a weapon, but… “Why?”

“We might need it. Will’s in trouble. We’re going to his house.”

Steve swam and ran races for a living and he could not keep up with this kid. “Wha—Now?”

“Now!”

* * * * *

Steve had no idea what to expect when Dustin commanded him to park in front of the Byers’ house. Dustin burst from the car and heralded him inside without knocking.

“Hi, Mrs. Byers,” Steve voiced with an apologetic wave. “Sorry to bust in.”

“ _Oh_ , _Steve_ , thank god.” Joyce rushed forward to hug him. She smelled nice. Stressed, but safe. She smelled like a mom. “Honey, Will’s in a bad way. Have you seen Jonathan around?”

“No, but…what can I do?”

“Just sit with him. I think having you nearby will help him feel more comfortable.”

She led him down the hallway with Dustin close on Steve’s heels. Even before they reached the door, Steve got a blast of…something different. He involuntarily raised a hand to his nose. “What is that? I’ve never smelled a heat like this.”

“I think…I’m not sure, of course, but I think my Will is both.”

“Huh?” Steve said as she opened the door. Mike and Lucas sat on the bed with a very sweaty and very pale Will Byers. “Both what?”

“What’s he doing here?” Mike asked. “I told you to get Jonathan or Nancy.”

Dustin shoved past Steve to inform, “I ran into him at your house. He was around last year when that whole shit storm went down, so I figured he’d be useful.”

“Useful how?” Lucas questioned.

Mike seconded, “The last thing Will needs is an alpha—”

“Didn’t know you were a doctor, Wheeler,” Steve spoke for himself. “Glad to know I’m everyone’s last resort. Sorry, did I hear you right? Did you say ‘both?’ What does that mean?”

“I mean he’s presenting as _both_ ,” Joyce said with a wide hand gesture and even wider eyes. “I think he’s intersex. He’s in heat but—you smell it, right? He smells alpha.”

Steve turned awed eyes on the small boy in the bed. Despite how frail he looked, Will held his gaze steadily. Touching Dustin’s shoulder, the kid moved for Steve to reach the bed—

Mike shot up to block him. “What are you doing?”

Steve fisted the runt’s shirt but kept his voice level. “I’m omega, dipshit. As far as I see, the alpha issue here is you. So watch it.”

That sufficed to get Mike off his case while Lucas leaned over to Dustin sitting at the desk. “He’s omega? Steve Harrington’s omega?”

“I’m right here,” Steve scoffed as he took Will’s hand—

“Honey, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Joyce apologized, and it was then that Steve realized someone else was in the house. A redheaded girl the same age as the kids had come to stand in the doorway with a bottle of water.

“But he’s been vomiting all day,” she said.

Joyce sighed, “All week. He can’t keep anything down.”

“ _Week?_ All week?” Steve exclaimed. “You need to get him to a hospital—”

“Don’t you think we’d have done that already if they knew anything?” Mike snapped, but Steve was up and looking around for the bathroom. They heard him move in the bathroom, and then strode by the doorway to the kitchen. The metallic snapping of a can opening made them glance at one another. He came back with a small towel and a ginger ale. They watched, perplexed as he balled up one side of the fabric and soaked it with nothing shy of sugar syrup.

Steve sat on the bed, making Will bounce slightly. “Hey, buddy, you with me?”

He could hear Will’s throat smack closed with how dry it was during his swallow. “Yeah,” he rasped.

“I need you to suck on this towel. Not too much, because your stomach will riot. _Drops_ , okay? You can only handle drops of fluid right now.”

He blinked tiredly, as good as a nod while he accepted the towel to hold against the front of his teeth. Steve turned to set his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. “Where is Jonathan supposed to be?”

Dustin answered, “The library. Researching intersex heat cycles.”

“I called the hospital,” Joyce added, “but every time, they just say the same thing: wait for one side to out-do the other.”

Steve’s outright grimace met her jaded _I know_ expression. “What, so—so his body is supposed to be a battle ground for the alpha hormones to fight the omega ones? That can’t be how it works—Jesus, if it did, my dad would’ve pumped me full of alpha hormones years ago.”

“Him and Lonnie both,” she growled. “I know you can’t stamp out the omega—there’s nothing _to_ get rid of—there’s nothing wrong with any of it. It’s just…learning to coexist.”

Steve sighed heavily, bowing his head to ruffle his hair. He knew how to handle his own heats and how to make alphas get off his back. That was the extent of his abilities.

Unzipping his jacket, he began to swivel his body back toward Will as he said, “He needs an IV drip. If nothing else, that’s always a heat staple. Alpha or omega, he needs fluids. If the hospital will only listen to an alpha, then get Hopper to take you.”

Joyce blew air so her lips flapped. “I just have to _find_ the man.”

But she left instantly to call the sheriff’s office. Meanwhile, Steve settled beside Will and opened his arm. “Come on in, kiddo. Get comfy.”

“What are you doing?” Dustin wondered, sounding not nearly as judgmental as Mike looked. The guy almost looked hurt by the way Will slumped right against Steve’s chest.

“We’re at our weakest when we’re in heat. When you’re sick, don’t you want to be held by somebody? All of you, get in here.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Will’s pack of friends piled onto the bed, even if it meant lying on his and Steve’s legs. While they figured out the Tetris of it all, Will murmured, “You smell nice.”

“Thanks,” Steve smiled, giving his narrow shoulder a squeeze. “I’m on my sugar dose, so my heat is next week.”

“Really?” Will voiced. The others kept silent, riveted to this new omega information.

“Really. I’m a swimmer, so I have to schedule and induce it.”

Will’s whole body sighed, melting further into him while he mumbled around the balled up towel. He slurped wetly before saying, “I wish I could schedule this for never.”

Steve’s hand moved up to rake slowly through Will’s hair. From his higher vantage point, he could see Will’s long lashes batting slowly. “If this has been going on all week, then Jonathan wouldn’t just bail.”

The girl spoke up, “He probably went to the next town over to try a different library.”

Steve shook his head, at a loss. “I’ve never heard of someone being both. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I wish I was just omega,” Will declared softly.

“Yeah?” Steve cooed over him. “That’s unique, kid. Not many people would wish that.”

“You can control it,” Will explained. “Alphas can’t.”

“Alphas can, they just get away with not. It’s—”

“Bullshit,” Mike finished, but not in defense. “It’s unfair, and it’s bullshit.”

At least he and Steve agreed on something.

* * * * *

Hopper waited outside to escort the Byers to the hospital. The bear of a man took one step inside the house and backpedaled right out. “Wow—look, if you need someone to carry him, I’m glad to, but I think—”

“I’ve got him,” Jonathan assured in his quiet way. It had been equal parts relief and anxiety, him and Nancy finally showing up with a science journal published literally that morning. How they had managed to get it, no one knew, but it contained the research to get the doctors to do their damn jobs. The consensus was still the same: Will needed to get somewhere with more medical stuff than the Byers had.

Jonathan appeared in Will’s doorway, and smiled softly at his brother plastered to Steve’s torso. “You ready to go, buddy? I’ll tell you about the research in the car.”

“Research?” Will’s small voice chirped. “That means…there’s more like me to do research?”

“A whole lot more,” Jonathan declared in a sigh of relief. “The studies are still fresh but promising.” Byers’ attention lifted to Steve. “Do you think you could help me get him up?”

Steve began to sit up, and stopped when a feral whine came out of Will. A hand flew over the kid’s mouth as Steve rubbed between his shoulder blades. “S-Sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay,” Jonathan cooed from his other side. “You’re in fight or flight right now. I need you to trust me a little, okay?”

“I do,” Will said, but full of worry. His body was not his own right now. Steve knew the feeling. Jonathan did too.

“Here,” Steve offered, easing all the way up, “you can wear my jacket. It’ll be like taking me with you. And when it runs out of juice, Jonathan can wrap you in his.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened, knowing what Steve offered. “Are you sure?”

Steve nodded like it was nothing. He eased the garment off his shoulders, not prying Will off him until he had to. “I’m sure.”

Will’s lashes sagged over his eyes with Steve’s collar high around his cheeks. Jonathan hoisted his brother into his arms, taking the bedclothes with him. Steve helped wrap them around Will so they didn’t drag.

The front yard was dark with the late evening but the sky still glowed faintly orange. Hopper opened his truck for Jonathan to situate in the back seat. With Will on his lap and Joyce in the front seat, there was an extra space. Steve looked at Nancy holding her elbows, watching the brothers while she pursed her lips from side to side.

“You should go with him.”

She blinked up at him like she hadn’t heard him. “What?”

“Jonathan. You should go with him. He and Joyce could really use you.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she settled on, “No, no, I’m not leaving Mike.”

“No one’s leaving anyone,” Steve reassured. “I’m here. It’s practically in my DNA to deal with little runts like them. And…you should go with him.”

They held each other’s gaze for while, neither of them looking hurt, and maybe that was just it. Some things just end with a period, and that’s it.

“We never talked about…” she began, turning to him a little, “what I said. At the party. It was really shitty of me to say that to you.”

“It’s okay, Nancy,” he hushed in a reaffirming way, not actually to silence her. She looked at him like she didn’t believe him, like she was waiting, but he nodded. “It’s okay. You were right. You and I have kind of been done for a while now, and…it’s not fair to you to just go through the motions. You faced it first. I was…I’m used to going through the motions.”

“It still isn’t right, what I said, and the way I said it,” she tried. “I shouldn’t have pushed any of that on you. There’s no obligation to…to anything you don’t want to do.”

He nodded again with a smile, even though his throat hurt. “I appreciate it. I do. You’re the most relaxed alpha I’ve ever met, which is why you should go with them. It’s purely a Byers’ thing, being a little nuts, but you’re good at handling a little crazy.”

He chuckled, and she smiled, but ending something special is always painful. Steve gave her a gentle nudge. “Go on. I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend, but…turns out I’m a damn good babysitter. Not even your dipshit little brother can boss me around. He hates it, it’s great.”

An easier laugh escaped her as he turned to go into the house, but she grasped his hand. “Steve. You were never shitty, okay?”

She waited until warmth infused his face, and he squeezed her hand before they parted ways.

And then Steve was left with four of the most headstrong kids he’d ever met.

“We’re not leaving!” Mike argued.

“We’re cleaning this place up, and then I’m taking you home,” Steve rebuked.

“Will’s coming back! With the science journal Jonathan and Nancy found, it shouldn’t take long to treat Will and—”

“We don’t actually know that,” Lucas argued, much to Steve’s gratitude. He drank from the can of ginger ale, long since gone flat and room temperature. Considering it was November, that wasn’t the worst thing, but Will had only managed to get through half of it.

“No matter what, Will’s going to be hooked up to fluids for a few hours. In case you forgot about it, I’m in charge here and you’ve got parents waiting on all of you to get your asses home. That’s on me, so—”

Dustin remarked, “Nancy brought a second copy of that journal, right?”

Steve’s rant faltered as Mike went to fetch it. His voice traveled around the house as he spieled, “There’s gotta be something in here they missed. Something obvious—with me, the two of you—”

Mike gestured between the beta Dustin and Lucas, but landed on Max. It was clear none of the boys knew what she was. Mike moved right along to Steve. “—and _you_ , we should be able to crack this faster than those stupid, bigoted doctors!”

“Um—” Steve tried.

Lucas jumped up from the couch. “It’s got to be in chapters or something, right? Let’s each take one.”

“Guys—”

Dustin agreed, “I’ve got markers in my bag. It’s the velociraptor group project all over again.”

Lucas laughed, “We finished that in four hours.”

“So this should be a piece of cake for you nerds,” Max said, but not harshly.

“Hey, hey, HEY!” Steve ordered. In all his years at Hawkins high, he’d never experienced anybody look at him as jadedly as these little shits did. “It’s out of our hands now! Alright? Jonathan and Nancy are probably doing this exact same thing in the hospital lobby—and besides that, this house is a goddamn beacon for alpha bullshit. You wanna do Will a favor? You get a damn mop, because otherwise this place won’t be safe for him, whether he comes back tonight or a week from now. I’m in charge of keeping you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Does everybody understand that?”

“We have time!” Mike argued. “Hospitals only ever assign one doctor to a patient—that’s if they don’t gather around Will like a new dinosaur bone! Five of us are better than one—”

“Mike! I get it! You love the kid, but you don’t understand that you’re just a scrawny little alpha with a big mouth and nothing else! If you pulled your head out of your ass for one minute, you’d understand that Will’s smell could be drawing god-knows-what to this house, where _one omega_ is in charge of four _kids_.”

He gave them a second for that to sink in. It did for Dustin, at least, as the kid’s head bowed with renewed worry. Steve finished, “You think Will’s in danger? Look around. Our greatest defense is Lysol, not a goddamn journal that’s written in language none of us are going to be able to understand unless you have a dictionary ready. For the last time: we’re cleaning this place up, and I’m taking you all home. Does everybody understand that?”

Mike, fuming, chided, “You’re just afraid.”

Whatever smell wafted off of Steve right then had the betas retreating and Mike ducking his head. “I said, _does everybody understand that?_ I need a yes.”

He never got it. Because an obnoxious car engine roared its way onto the Byers’ property. Steve’s stomach plummeted, instantly dropping his cleaning spray and dishtowel to go for the nailed bat he usually kept in his car trunk. The same time Max charged for the couch to peer out the window. “It’s my brother.”

“Brother?” Lucas repeated, joining her on the sofa.

“Please tell me your brother’s a beta,” Steve interrupted, but Max’s worried and apologetic expression said enough. What’s more, the music growing in volume over the long driveway pricked a certain familiarity Steve did not want to deal with right now.

“Stay in here. Keep cleaning. And…be ready to spray this bastard’s eyes with something.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

* * * * *

Billy smirked to himself. The night had taken an odd turn for the interesting, at least.

That is, until Steve Harrington stood close enough with a baseball bat in hand for Billy to recoil. “What the hell is that smell?”

“Don’t worry about it. What do you want?”

That didn’t spark suspicion at all. His eyes flicked to the long-ass pair of _nails_ in the damn thing resting on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m looking for my step-sister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

“You sure? You smell all dolled up for a date. I should be insulted.”

Billy grinned like a wolf. “I don’t hunt, pretty boy. You turned me down, I walked around. Doesn’t matter. Date’s cancelled because the shit bird ran away from home. I know she’s here. Even without being told, I can smell her on you…around whatever that god-awful scent is. That the Byers’ kid I heard rumors about?”

“Depends. What are the rumors?”

Billy gratefully inhaled from his cigarette. Anything to diffuse the downright feral aromas emanating off of Steve. Looking at that bat, Billy wondered if some of it wasn’t directly from Steve. He knew the omega was wasting his time, drawing this out…but Billy didn’t know why.

“That he has heats every month, regardless of medicine. How something happened last year, something that got him into a whole lot of trouble… How his brother makes such a dedicated effort to stay home and take care of him.”

There it is. Billy’s words land right where he wants them, and Steve’s _pissed_.

“Don’t be nasty. Jonathan’s a good guy and Will hasn’t gone through puberty yet. His heats make him really sick—not that you’d give a shit. Alphas don’t know shit about us. They don’t bother trying, either.”

“Oh yeah?” Billy exhaled smoke. “Then how about you explain to me how my thirteen year old sister goes missing all day…and then I find her here with _you_ , in a stranger’s house. I’ll admit, it’s nice you haven’t tried to lie about it, but you’re also holding that bat like it’s got my name on it.”

“That remains to be determined.”

Billy’s tongue made a wet lap around his lips to which Steve gave…next to no reaction. Billy might’ve been truly insulted if he wasn’t constantly perplexed by this omega. “ _Steve_. I’m on a deadline. You’re not calling the shots here.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Hargrove. Because you’re dumb shit if you think I’m letting a kid go off with you, sister or not. Here’s how this is going to work—”

Billy gripped the front of Steve’s t-shirt and got a nail stabbed into the soft meat where his shoulder joined his chest. He cried out but didn’t let Steve go. He stared into the hard, wide stare of Harrington’s eyes. _“Nobody tells me what to do._ Least of all _you_.”

“Tough shit, Billy. We both know at this time of night, your ass is getting beat no matter if you have Max with you or not.”

That…brought him up short.

“Now you can either let me save it, or fuck off.”

Billy almost raised a foot between them to kick Steve in the gut—

But Steve beat him to it. Billy’s ass landing on the hood of his car kept him from falling in the dirt. He gripped his shoulder, seething. This would not do. No way in hell was he going to let a fucking omega—

“MAX!” Steve yelled. Billy could only stare at him straightening and returning the bat to his shoulder. “Call your house!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Billy heaved, working on breathing around his stuttering abdominal muscles.

Steve turned and strode back in the direction he’d come, shaking his head like he was so done with this night. “Something stupid. It’s what I’m best at.”

He walked into the house, leaving the door open for Billy, who wasted no time in following him inside—

And getting ambushed by a pack of kids. Billy couldn’t even say something snide, because way too many spray nozzles were aimed for his face.

Steve was suddenly there, a hand on a particular curly-haired beta’s shoulder. “Woah, woah, woah! He’s good! Guys, it’s all right.” But Steve returned that hard gaze to Billy and asked, “Are you good?”

Billy lowered his hand from his face back to his injured shoulder. “Good,” he growled with no shortage of pride.

Max stood on the other end of the room, gauging how likely a fight was to break out while a stretched phone cord disappeared around the corner. Steve went over to her, saying much more softly, “It’s okay. Call your house, and then hand it to me.”

Billy grit his teeth at his shoulder smarting. The kids scurried out of the way for him to reach the kitchen. He folded his shirt over his shoulder, feeling some more snaps pop open while he analyzed how worth beating Steve’s ass later would be…

The muffled, static pitch of his step-mother struck an arrow of fear into his gut. He recognized _Good evening, Hargrove residence_ , as if he stood in the room with her.

“Hi, Mrs. Hargrove,” Steve said in a contrastingly light and charming tone. “My name is Steve Harrington. I go to school with Billy. I’m actually here with him and Max. Say hi, guys.”

Max had the sense to holler the happiest fucking, “Hi, mom!” from the living room.

Billy tried to keep his voice neutral, “Hey,” and heard something like _Oh, thank god!_

“Yeah,” Steve laughed, “I know it’s late—”

_Can I talk to them?_

“Actually, Billy is still catching up on the details, himself, so if it’s okay with you, I’d like to explain, if that’s okay?”

Steve paused for that to sink in but not long enough for there to be any counter answer. “You see, one of Max’s friends got sick this afternoon. Real sick, like, it’s been building up all week, and the kids have been trying to keep him company. That’s why Max snuck out, because they’ve all been so worried. One of them actually came and got me since they didn’t know what else to do. I’m omega, see, and the poor kid is having a major complication with his heat. He went to the hospital this evening. I’ve been left to babysit. The afternoon’s been a whirlwind and I’m in charge of four kids and getting this house squared away. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to drop Max off yet. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. Say hi, gremlins.”

Steve held the phone up for everyone to yell overly enthusiastic hellos. Max once again had the sense to holler so that her mom didn’t pick up how she was entirely alone with boys.

Steve put the phone back on his ear, but there was a pause. Then Billy felt like he was going to be sick.

“Hi, Mr. Hargrove,” Steve greeted anew, slowly turning around so he wasn’t facing Billy or the kids. He leaned against the wall with his phone to his ear, arms crossed. Everyone behind him waited with bated breath. Billy realized Max had come to sit on the kitchen table close to him.

“I do, sir. I just figured, Halloween just happened, midterms wrapped up, it’s Friday, and then these poor kids get hit in the face with their friend being hospitalized? I should’ve had everyone call their parents, I admit that. I lost track of time since the kid’s mom and Sheriff Hopper trusted me with keeping things secure here—”

Whatever attempt Billy had been trying to make in regards to washing his shoulder was officially gone. Steve picked right back up from being interrupted, “The sheriff had to escort the family to the hospital. With all due respect, sir, it’s not my family. It’s not my place to speak about it.”

Billy’s eyes slid to Max, who felt his gaze and peeked at him too. The kids in the living room were constantly exchanging silent looks with one another. Whether they knew it or not, Steve was single-handedly keeping Mr. Hargrove from charging onto the Byers’ property.

Steve’s tone never wavered, never lowered into severity or hesitated with fear. He remained impressively jovial to talk to an alpha like Hargrove. As much as Billy wanted to grab Max and just get home, take whatever punishment was coming, he couldn’t stop listening to Steve navigating the discussion with his father. It was not lost on Billy how he had yet to name the Byers specifically, and even Mr. Hargrove couldn’t pry into private, medical business.

“Yes, sir. Max has been a big help! It’s easier handling these wildcats with her around. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. The mom really counted on her until I was able to get here—Oh, I’m captain of the swim team. I’m used to it—I was hoping, if it’s okay with you, right before I called, we actually got word from the hospital. The family should be on their way home within a couple of hours.”

More exchanged looks. From the betas’ frowns, Billy knew Steve was lying. Lying to an alpha.

“I know that’s really pushing it, but if you’re comfortable, I’ll keep Billy and Max here to hold down the fort with me. And actually, since we’re close to the subject, I was hoping to have Billy over at mine next week? All week.”

Billy’s lips parted. Only the kids’ worried glares at him kept him from outright gaping, because he knew what Steve was doing. It was nothing short of begging Mr. Hargrove to let Max off the leash for the night. To let _Billy_ off of his for a _week_.”

_Steve’s heat is next week._

Whether Steve meant it or not, whether he fabricated a whole damn lie, Steve was still using his omega status as a bargaining chip. Billy Hargrove invited to spend a heat with a Harrington, captain of the high school swim team? It was the juiciest piece of _responsibility_ his dad would foam at the mouth for. Like if he walked out of the Harrington house wearing Steve’s swimming medals, they’d be as good as Billy’s.

And it’s like Steve knew.

“He can still do that… No, that won’t be a problem at all. I usually spend my heats alone. I’ll be fine while he takes Max to and from school.”

All at once, Billy’s blood _boiled_. His father was always a real prick, but this was something else. Prying in and trying to have even the slightest control over Steve’s heat. The fact that Steve remained fucking calm made Billy seethe even more—

A light touch on his arm startled him. Max never touched him, but she held onto his arm now. Grounding him into the here and now, into this deal Steve was making. Billy had to stay put and stay under control, because now Steve said, “Yes, sir. Thank you so much. Yeah, here he is.”

Billy pulled his shirt back into place and took the phone from him. Steve rotated to go into the living room, and Billy almost stared at his bright red neck. He swallowed dryly, wanting to put Steve’s smell in his lungs but something roiled underneath the strange odor that already permeated the house. Billy didn’t have the time to contemplate it as he held the phone to his ear.

Steve had done such a good job, all Billy had to do was utter several _Yes, sirs,_ and _I understand_ , before the call was done.

It took a long moment before the very house sighed with relief. Billy came to lean on the corner looking into the living room. Steve sat on the Byers’ couch close to the front door, the baseball bat propped against the arm. Billy can see the slight tremors in Steve’s hands.

As if too much noise would break the fragile peace they had made, Dustin breathed, “Dude. That’s the smoothest shit I’ve ever seen.”

“Nicely done,” Lucas agreed.

Steve flashed a smile but Billy could see the redness of his neck peeking through the hair around his throat. “I’m not smart, but my dad’s a walking master class in manipulating alphas.”

Mike asked, sounding truly in awe, “Do you have to do that often?”

Steve glanced at him, wiping his face of cold sweat or nerves, Billy didn’t know. “Not as much anymore, but when you’re the omega out-swimming alpha teammates, a lot of parents don’t take that well.”

Steve let a hand stay on his face, holding his head up as well as hiding behind it—

Nearly everyone cried out when the phone rang. Max stomped over to it. “Hello? Hi, Nancy.”

Steve’s back hit the couch as if he’d been hit from so much relief. When Max replied, “Yeah, of course he’s still here. Why?” Steve climbed to his feet.

Billy almost went to him, took his weight off the wall to do so, to help steady him on his feet or push him back down and take the call himself. But that reaction surprised him so much he only moved out of Steve’s way, and lowered himself into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Yeah, Nance? Yeah…good! Psh, yeah right. Yeah, we’re fine. Sure. Mike?”

The skinny Wheeler shot up and traded places with him. “How’s Will? Is he okay?”

Steve scratched his scalp while Mike listened to his sister, and like he popped out of a long reverie, he lifted annoyed eyes at the kids. “Lysol, guys, come on. Let’s go. A little hustle, huh? We’ve got two hours to make this place spick and span.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy "Nobody tells me what to do" Hargrove, honey, you're about to be bossed around so much, your head will spin.
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
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	3. Alpha

In retrospect, Billy still can’t believe he actually scrubbed that kitchen down with Max. The betas took the living room and hallway, going so far as vacuuming the furniture while Mike and Steve worked in Will’s room. They both emerged sweaty, and hauling laundry baskets.

“Max, Billy, you gotta go. The rest of you, be ready in forty-five minutes. If you want to shower, you get five minutes a piece.”

He ruffled Mike’s hair after they successfully dropped everything in the laundry room. “Good job, kid.”

Billy used the shower first, if nothing else than to wash off the chaotic smell of Will and to have some privacy as he stabbed soap into his shoulder. The hole in his chest didn’t look great, but he had all weekend to spend in the Emergency Room. And all of next week to spend with Steve Harrington.

He found Steve in the kitchen afterward, sipping on a can of soda and monitoring the kids haphazardly making their own sandwiches.

“Next week,” he cut right to it, and tried his damndest not to lean face-first into Steve’s neck; to inhale the smell of his sweat, and definitely not to lick the wetness making his hair cling to the skin there. “Sunday or Monday?”

By the way Steve glared at him, Billy half-expected him not to answer. “Sunday.”

Not next week. The day after _tomorrow_.

Billy nodded once, “Okay,” and stepped away to pluck a slice of turkey for himself. He felt Steve’s eyes on him as he made a sandwich, and pushed it into Max’s hands as soon as she emerged from the bathroom. “We’re leaving. Say your goodbyes fast.”

On his way out the door, he eyed that baseball bat, definitely filing away a reminder to heckle the shit out of Harrington about it.

At least, if Steve even let him into his house. Because when Billy knocked on those fancy double doors come Sunday morning, he barely had the time to appreciate Steve’s pajamas since the guy stared him dead in the face.

“What? It’s Sunday,” Billy defended with his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Yeah. It’s not happening.”

“Excuse me?” Billy crooned darkly. “I spent all day in the ER because of you, and _you_ made this arrangement. Without asking me, even though I can’t say I mind.”

“I had to think fast, but I’ve had more time to remember why there’s a reason I spend heats alone.”

Billy licked his lips with a snide click of his tongue. “Then why didn’t you inform me of your fickle decision?”

“If I’d called your house, the old man would’ve known something happened. You can still get the week to fuck off.”

Billy frowned. “What am I supposed to do? I already got an ER doctor’s note getting me out of school for the week anyways. Again, because of you.”

Steve shrugged, and the state of his bedhead above an acid-dyed hoodie—or perhaps it was just gloriously stained with bleach—made Billy want to walk into the house and lock it behind him. Steve’s weight shifted from leg to leg, earning a lingering stare from Billy at those shorts, bare feet, and the long expanse in between. With the door open to a November morning, Billy might just have to draw this out long enough…

“Seriously, Harrington, at this rate, you owe me a place to crash, if nothing else.”

Steve barked a laugh. “I don’t owe you jack shit, and I’m sure as hell not letting you hang around here while I have my heat.”

“Why not? Has it occurred to you that I might be the best guy to have around for it?”

Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. _Ready for the long haul, it seems._ “I’m all ears for why you think you’re prime heat material.”

Billy spread his hands out, which in turn opened his jacket. Steve’s eyes flicked down to his shirt, but his nostrils did not flare at his scent. “Isn’t this the ideal? Omega paired with alpha? Only an alpha can match an omega’s stamina. And I’m not like other alphas in this ignorant town. I’ll know how to make it worth your while.”

Steve inhaled, ready to lay in. “Not like other alphas, my ass. Alright: what do I eat at the start of my heat?”

Billy’s brows tilted closer together before he dared to look down at Steve’s hands. He didn’t have so much as an apple, and Billy couldn’t smell bacon and eggs inside the house, either. “This is a trick question.”

“You’re right, because alpha shitheads like you are too busy imagining having a hard-on for a week, when actually, an omega’s heat starts with vomiting. A lot of vomiting.”

Billy’s features began to ebb away from each other, focused on Steve, so he continued, “It’s a dead giveaway you’ve never been with anyone’s heat, because while you’re playing up whatever fantasy you want, I’m living on a liquid diet so I don’t get dehydrated over the next forty-eight hours. And _then_ I’ll be sleeping so much that it’s actually possible for me to sleep through, like, dying. I’ve slept three whole days before. Basically, while you’re ready to use me as a sex toy, I’m trying to not die from a basic bodily function. Can you cook?”

The alpha blinked, totally caught off guard by the question. “Yeah? I can make breakfast.”

Steve’s lashes lowered. “Pouring cereal doesn’t count.”

Billy’s hand emerged from his pocket to grasp the doorframe near Steve’s head. _Long haul, it is, then._ “I cook for Max all the time. Breakfast is my specialty. What are you getting at?”

“I’m getting at how too many alphas think it’s the omega’s job to cook and sex them up on demand, like a maid in a porno. And how that doesn’t even make sense. An omega eats more—way more. I can get up and do stuff, but it’s not ideal. What I’m getting at, is that my heat isn’t about you. If you’re here, you’re _taking care_ of me. Do you get that?”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“If you’re coming in here, you’re leaving your alpha bullshit at the door. I just want Billy.”

 _I just want Billy_ ricocheted around his head so violently, Billy almost kissed him on the spot. He swallowed and uttered softly, “Okay.”

Steve lifted a brow. “Okay?”

Billy eased off the doorjamb to scratch his lip. “Yeah, okay. Thanks for considering me a complete moron, by the way. My mom’s omega. I actually have done this a little bit. I know how rough it is. If nothing else, I can make sure you don’t die from over sleeping, and I won’t jump you. Okay? You’ve got that bat somewhere, right?”

Steve looked far from at ease. He let his eyelids slide closed in a long blink, coming to a decision. He stepped back from the door. “Right,” he sighed, however the tone very much said, _I can’t believe I’m doing this._

Billy stepped over the threshold, his boots loud in the foreign domain. He yanked them off quickly to lock the doors and follow Steve up the stairs. The house smelled clean and…oddly empty. There were traces of other people but not enough to divert Billy inhaling the subtle trail behind Steve. He couldn’t help but admit, “You don’t smell as much as I thought you would.”

“I haven’t taken my last inducer yet.”

“Waiting for me?” Billy teased, but he felt a swell of glee in his chest.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” Steve countered, but he seemed comfortable in his house, even with Billy here. As they crested the landing, he began, “My parents are gone, so you can go downstairs, but everything important is up here. I’ll give you the tour.”

 _Tour? Hell_ , Billy couldn’t help but think when he saw a kitchen at the heart of an open floor plan. “You have two kitchens?”

“Sort of had to when I was little. My mom had to take care of me while my dad pretended I’d grow out of it. He had this floor renovated before his work took him out of the house for most of the year.”

“Sounds alpha.”

“Yeah. Mom’s beta,” Steve confirmed on his way behind the huge, octagonal island counter.

Billy openly gaped at the glass fronts of the massive refrigerator. “Jesus, is this a restaurant fridge?”

“I told you, omegas eat a lot.” Steve opened one side of it. Steel mixing bowls lined the central shelf, sealed with plastic wrap with the handles out and ready to be grasped. Billy approached to peruse the goods, only to frown over the green contents inside of one.

“Veggie mashed potatoes,” Steve informed, and pointed to each mixing bowl in turn. “Broccoli, spinach, uh, this one’s pink because of beets, and this one’s purple because mom’s obsessed with colorful vegetables lately.”

Billy set the bowl back inside with the comment, “Purple potatoes?”

Steve ignored him to direct his attention to other pots and bowls. “Chili. Risotto. Broccoli with cheese. Pancake batter—”

“You seriously eat all this on your own?”

“And in the freezer,” Steve said in answer, opening the drawers underneath the doors. “Waffles, burger paddies, steaks…I don’t really go in here too often. My stomach settles better with the fresh stuff. That being said,” he shut the drawer, “Don’t eat too much of my food, or I’ll throw you out. The fridge downstairs is yours.”

“You okay if I take these waffles now? I didn’t eat before coming here.”

Steve paused to look back at him. “Go ahead.”

Billy noted the softness in his tone. _Ask and I shall receive, huh?_

Toaster cooking, Billy finished the kitchen tour himself, finding the syrup, butter, and plates. He peeked at Steve over in the sitting area, his hood drawn halfway over his head—as much as his fluffy hair allowed. Billy joined him on the couch, glad that Steve had already pulled the coffee table close for a footrest, even though Billy knocked the back of his hand against Steve’s ankle. He moved his feet to sit cross-legged while Billy cut into his waffles.

Around a mouthful, he remembered, “Max told me the Byers’ kid is both?”

He pivoted to see Steve shrug while nursing a suspiciously neon yellow substance through a straw. “I didn’t know it was possible either until Dustin dragged me there.”

Billy diverted with a point from his fork, “What is that?”

“Gatorade slushie.”

Billy took it right out of his hands and gave it a taste. It was _delicious_. “Oh. Shit, that’s good—” Steve snatched it back. “—What’s in that?”

“Gatorade, ginger ale, lime juice, and ice. You’ll need to know that since you’ll be making them later.”

Billy smirked at him, almost _fond_. “This’ll be fun.”

“You won’t last twelve hours.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a hunch.”

“I’ll blend your hunch in with your next slushie. What happened after I left Friday?”

“I took everyone else home and went back to finish the laundry.”

“Did the family come home?”

“Yeah, at around five in the morning. Hopper was loaded with stuff, so it’s a good thing we cleaned.”

Fork and knife clattered softly as Billy queried, “What kind of stuff?”

“Saline bags, an IV drip stand—omega prescription stuff. It’s not a lot, and it’s not difficult to manage, but it’s easy to get wrong.”

“What about the alpha component?”

“Nancy explained that the alpha side reacted to the omega side. The more distressed Will became, the more alpha presented. The shitheads at the hospital expected the alpha to dominate the omega, but as soon as the omega just got some freaking fluids and could continue his heat normally, the alpha calmed down. I hate that shit. Pisses me off.”

Billy hummed a low sound. _Right. Nancy._ He’d forgotten about her. “Both Wheelers are alphas. Why’d she go to the hospital with Jonathan instead of staying back with you and the kids?”

“I told her to go with Jonathan.”

“So you’re officially done?”

“Would it bother you if we weren’t?”

“Yeah. It would,” Billy answered without looking at him. He shoveled waffles into his face instead.

He only looked back at Steve when the latter asked, “Who was your date with?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You bombed that bad, huh?”

He met Steve’s cheeky smirk, but it was clear something was happening to him. Steve’s eyes were dark, groggy in a weird way. Obviously not drunk, but coming down with his heat made him sluggish by the aches in his body. Unguarded.

_You won’t last twelve hours._

_I’ll last all month if it means you keep looking at me like that._

“Anyways,” Steve returned to the original topic with his straw caught between his teeth. “Mrs. Byers let me sleep on her couch. Made me breakfast. I laid with Will for a while.”

“They let you stay even though heats are a family thing?”

“I think having a different omega around was a nice change for him. He trusts his brother with his life, but Joyce is a single mom and they were both exhausted. Plus, since I’m practically in my heat too…I don’t know. I was able to calm him down whenever things acted up.”

“You’re good at calming alphas down,” Billy murmured.

“Not really. Just learned how to avoid my dad early on. Pretty sure I’m really fucking good at riling you guys up.”

Billy eased back to sit more at Steve’s level. He rested an ankle under his knee while he retorted, “You sure are. I’ve nearly thrown hands at you so many times.”

“You’re not allowed to hit me this week.”

Billy snorted. “But afterward, it’s on?”

“Only if you want to get murdered by my swim team.”

Billy made a sound like he had remembered something long since ruminated on. “About them…why do you let them handle you like they do?”

Steve rolled his head over the back of the couch to look at him. Billy elaborated, “They practically carry you through the halls. You’re okay with that?”

Steve shrugged the same moment his stomach gurgled loudly. Billy saved that for later while Steve otherwise answered, “My coach talked to me about it. Said if I was ever uncomfortable, to come to him, but he said he’d never seen a team respond so well before. Usually it’s all alphas with a few betas. He said having an omega around balanced things.

“ ‘Course, that was after I dealt with things myself. Now I just think they’re possessive. But in a platonic sort of way.”

“Dealt with things,” Billy repeated. He didn’t know why that statement bothered him. Well, he _knew_ it was because he didn’t like Steve having to do that by himself. The thought of no alphas standing up for him like how he watches over Max—even if the little twerp was too young to realize or be grateful.

But there was no point in being bothered. Billy hadn’t lived here, and if he was being honest with himself, Billy _was_ just another dickhead alpha. If he’d walked into any other school, he would have had the king omega on his knees at the earliest opportunity.

Instead, he’d been drop-kicked into Hawkins, where Steve didn’t just look after himself, but all the omegas in the school. The effect on the latter had certainly been obvious—Billy had _never_ had an omega classmate ask him to move so they could have the window seat; his refusal is probably what landed the swim team around him on the second day of school—but Billy had also never known a place with so many relaxed alphas.

Contact sports could be lethal with so many tightly coiled alphas put at odds with one another. But Steve swam in his lane, and encouraged the others to do better in theirs.

“Like you dealt with my dad?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed, leaning over so he fell on the couch pillows, his head on the arm. “Some parents hear my dad’s name and lighten up. Others just want to be obeyed.”

“What’s the hardest thing you’ve had to do to make them shut up?”

Billy knew it was an unfair question—even a triggering one—

“Beat a school record. Almost drowned.”

The waffles sat heavily in Billy’s stomach. “What’s the record?”

“Five hundred yard freestyle. The asshole dad had a plaque in the school and thought he was as good as the principal. Said he’d only allow an omega to swim with his kid if I beat his own record. He did it with the butterfly.”

“That’s the hardest one, right?”

“It’s a nightmare, is what it is. If you don’t warm up your arms right, it blows out your shoulders. If you don’t have the core strength, it’ll feel like your stomach is being torn out. Asshole made me swim 500 yards like that.”

Billy had tried the butterfly stroke a few times before. There was definitely a finesse required if you didn’t want to flop around like a dying fish. “Why did you agree to it?”

“I thought I could get close, like maybe that would be enough. Or buy time for one of the betas to get the coach. Either way, I still had a room of alphas looking down on me. There’s a hill you gotta die on, right? I didn’t expect mine to be a pool. Coach was _furious_. I didn’t think the old guy had it in him. Dragged me out of the pool himself, banned the guy and his kid from entering the swimnasium ever again.”

Billy wiped a hand over his mouth, then licked his fingers to dissolve the syrup sticking to the corners. “What was your time?”

Steve frowned as if that had never occurred to him. “I don’t know…I was too busy crying my eyes out, trying to breathe. I assume I beat his time because the coach burned the plaque in the parking lot the next day. That was cool to see. I’m pretty sure my dad got the whole family transferred out of Hawkins.”

“Shit,” Billy exhaled.

“Yeah. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for me. I mean, I guess apart from giving me my own suite.”

Steve didn’t sound happy about it. Billy couldn’t blame him, so he switched to a different track. “Your stomach’s been yelling this whole time. I understand the hydration thing, but why can’t you have solids?”

“They hurt coming back up.”

“Oh.” Billy sure couldn’t argue with that. “When are you supposed to take your last pill?”

“I already took it while you were waiting for the toaster.”

_Oh!_

As if Steve could hear Billy’s thoughts, he droned, “I can smell your excitement. Lay off.”

“I should get my stuff out of my car,” Billy announced, standing to take his plate to the sink. To his pleasant surprise, when he pulled his antibiotic bottle out of the cup holder with his bag slung across his shoulder, the Harringtons' garage began to open. The garnet BMW sat on one side, but Steve could be seen in the vacant spot, going back up the stairs into his house. Billy pulled right in, very much liking the idea of his baby under a roof. He liked the roar of his engine in the Harringtons' house. He liked the empty driveway keeping the secret of anybody being home.

After locking the garage and making sure the front doors matched, Billy met Steve at the top of the landing once more. He nodded for Billy to follow. “The guest room is this way.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re going to want your own bathroom,” Steve reminded, and strode forward. The room he opened had clearly been decorated to Mrs. Harrington’s exceptionally boring taste. Billy dropped his bag and prescription on the bed to appease Steve, even though Billy thoroughly anticipated moving right into Steve’s room at the earliest opportunity.

The phone rang, and Billy followed him back into the living area. From Steve’s side of the conversation, Billy reckoned the caller to be one of Steve’s teammates checking on him. Billy, meanwhile, looked out the window at the Harringtons' in-ground swimming pool. When the call finished, he asked, “Why is your pool still open?”

“It’s heated.”

Billy almost made a snide remark, but then he realized the pool was _his_ for the week. He laughed to himself, feeling Steve’s gaze on him, so he turned away from the windows. “And your room?”

He knew which room was Steve’s. Had felt that closed door as good as a bulb shining in the room. But Steve had to let him in.

He did so, albeit with no small amount of dreadful silence. Billy wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but a standard bedroom wasn’t it. Bed on the right, bathroom on the left, window straight ahead…it even had boring, rich kid wallpaper and a writing desk.

But it smelled like _Steve_. The smell that had hit him that first time in the school halls, when Steve was hot and rich from exercise and a shower. It made the glands on Billy’s neck tingle. It made him feel how Steve looked: tired and hazy, heavy yet floating. He wanted to pull Steve against him by the waist and breathe him in, kiss him senseless. He wanted to _taste_ him, all of him. Shower off their filth and then do it all again.

They had to get through the first days of his heat, though. He had to get Steve comfortable—Steve had to want it. There wouldn’t be anything to enjoy unless Steve wanted him as badly as Billy had ached all this time.

So he would wait. He’d waited this long, and got a _week_ with Harrington thrown right into his lap. He could wait some more.

* * * * *

Steve couldn’t say that Billy surprised him by changing into sweatpants and dropping himself right onto Steve’s bed like he owned it. Steve _could_ say, however, that he hadn’t expected Billy to be…agreeable.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been too surprised. Most alphas calmed the hell down once they got away from other alphas. When they finally figured out that they didn’t have to be so _alpha_ with Steve. Once they finally got it through their heads that Steve’s teasing wasn’t belittling; that he actually had a sense of humor and a goofiness that made him cute, not lesser.

At least, Steve considered himself pretty dang cute when he wasn’t puking his guts out.

He had a fifteen minute window of slowly growing nausea before it hit him like a ton of bricks. Billy had made himself a turkey melt for lunch and an early dinner of macaroni and cheese, both of which had Steve salivating but also dreading how those exact smells would set him off right about…now.

“Need a headband?” Billy crooned.

Steve felt too shitty to refuse a good idea. He held his hand up for Billy to place it on his palm and used the interlude between heaves to contain his hair. With his organs clenching together, lurching him over the toilet once more, he expected Billy to leave. Instead, as another wave of calm let him breathe and relax, he heard Billy say conversationally, “I’m surprised you don’t all get prescribed an IV drip, if dehydration is a real concern.”

“It’s manageable when you’re older. I had one when I was little.” He glanced up to see Billy sitting on the vanity, leaning back against the mirror with his arms crossed. “Had my own stand on wheels and everything. It’s in the closet with the towels. ‘S a Halloween decoration now.”

“Jesus. Why the hell do your parents leave you alone for this?”

“It’s fine now. But you should’ve seen the haunted house the swim team made sophomore year. I brought my drip stand and they lost their minds. Half loved it; the other half made me bread and muffins.”

Billy almost spat, he laughed so hard. Steve did spit and a lot more, but when he came back up, Billy replied, “They really love you.”

“Yeah, they’re good guys,” he sighed, laying his head on the seat. He opened his eyes when he felt Billy’s hand on his temple.

“I’ll get you some ice.”

He came back with a whole popcorn bowl full of it. Steve’s laugh dissolved into puke, but it was nice to have something to suck on afterward. Even if he vomited the water, the ice kept his fever down and his brain active, moving the slippery cubes over his tongue to give him a break from the taste of his own sick.

Billy stayed with him. Even when the hour grew late and Steve became sensitive to light, Billy found his stash of candles under the sink and turned the overhead lights off. He settled on the floor with him, leaning against the door with the plush rug underneath his bare feet crossed at the ankle.

After a brutal series of stomach clenches wrung Steve out, he breathed heavily against the wall. He licked his lips, watching Billy scratch another match to light a candle he’d been sniffing, making sure it didn’t have a fragrance.

“Am I still sexy?”

Billy lifted wide eyes on him, because Steve’s voice sounded dead in his own ears and he was sure he looked ready for a grave. A wet one, given how his clothes hung heavily with his own sweat. But Billy laughed, and set the candle by his hip. “With some mouthwash, I’d kiss you.”

“Sweet,” Steve breathed, considering it a victory twice over with how Billy laughed at him. “You know I gave you the guest room for a reason.”

“I’m staying right here, pretty boy.” Billy looked up from where his fingertips teased the flame. “But I want to ask: why did you let me in? You seemed to change your mind relatively quick.”

“I figured after five hours of _this_ ,” he gestured between himself and the toilet, “you’d high-tail it out of here. Scarred off omega heats forever.”

Billy huffed, “So much for that. Also…why’d you let me into the Byers’ house? You had the upper hand. Could’ve knocked me out or sent me packing.”

Steve had one arm propped on the toilet and the other on his knee as he shook his head. “No, I didn’t. I’m taller, but—”

“You’re barely taller.”

“I’m taller. But you’re stronger. One good hit is all it would take to lay me out on the ground. I needed you on my side. That house isn’t exactly as sturdily built as this one. A good nose could smell Will’s heat through the walls. If something big showed up…I wouldn’t be enough to keep everyone safe. If anything, I was a beacon in my own right for some asshole to drive up.”

His eyes lifted to smirk at Billy. “Sorry about your shoulder.”

Billy peeked down at himself even though he couldn’t see the injury through his t-shirt. “Yeah…that fucking hurt. Had to take a couple needles for tetanus after some old guy scrubbed it out and sewed it shut.”

“Big baby.”

“I don’t like taking pills. I’m on antibiotics for a week, Harrington.”

“Don’t look on the counter, then. My collection will scare ya dead.”

“Already noticed. How do you deal with that? A pill every day?”

Steve scratched behind his ear, but he didn’t go for the toilet again. Billy considered that a good sign. The ice had long since turned into a puddle in the bowl. “You get used to it.”

Billy’s head wagged to and fro against the door. “That’s not an answer. What aren’t you telling me?”

“What is there to tell?” Steve blinked over an eye roll. “I can’t swim without them, and swimming is the only thing I’ve ever been good at. It’s what’s getting me out of this shithole town.”

“Ha ha!” Billy laughed at the ceiling. “Jesus, we actually agree on that.”

Steve bristled, “Why the hell did you move here, anyway?”

Billy’s mirth faded as he ruffled the hair on his nape. When he eased his head back against the door, his tone changed. “I visited my mom too much.”

“What d’you mean?”

Billy held the tip of his tongue between his teeth, looking everywhere but at Steve while he decided on something. “It’s practically written in California state law that in the event of divorce, the alpha gets the kid, unless they forfeit.”

_My mom’s omega._

“Oh,” Steve uttered.

Billy didn’t reply immediately. He just let that sink between them before he continued, “I didn’t understand it as a kid. Thought she ran off for the longest time. One night I got home late—snuck in through my window—but my dad was awake. He was on the phone with her, yelling at her, thinking she had finally come and gotten me. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s right up his tree to use the law to push her away. I found her, though. Got to see her another two years before he got wise.

“Then again, he probably knew but figured I was easier to control with her being a constant incentive. But it became a problem. He had a new wife he wanted to please and I had long since been violating custody agreements. Now we’re here.”

He looked properly at Steve, whose chest heaved while he tried to control his breathing. When that didn’t work, he held up a finger. “Don’t take this as my reaction to your mom.”

Billy really shouldn’t be amused by the sounds of dry heaving, but at this point, he relaxed against the door and smirked at the ceiling, waiting for Steve to finish.

“It’s great that you found her, though. To set the record straight. Does she know you’re here?”

“Yeah. She knows.”

“Well, there ya go.”

Billy snorted softly through his nose. “You’re not making sense anymore, Harrington.”

Before his very eyes, Steve began nodding off to sleep. “I think…I’m…ready to change rooms.”

Billy pinched out most of the candles and got down to pull Steve’s arm around his shoulders. “Slowly!” Steve waved a hand as if to grab onto something. “Love o’god…slowly.”

“Hold onto me,” he ordered, easing them up to standing. Steve lurched to the sink, where he washed out his mouth, and then let Billy haul him to the bed. Billy tossed the covers out of the way for him, observing how Steve crawled over the bed like a wobbly kitten before collapsing within the soft confines of his nest.

“Hang on. Get out of those clothes.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I’m not sleeping next to a mop,” Billy declared and hoisted Steve up to sitting. Hoodie and shirt gone, he flinched against the open air. Billy whipped off the headband to shove a t-shirt over Steve’s head from the pile of fresh laundry on the desk chair.

“Ow. Gently.”

“I am gentle.”

With the shirt successfully over Steve’s head, he toppled over his pillows once more. He blinked up at Billy sliding in with him, and surprised the alpha by holding up his hand.

“Day one: complete.”

A dumb grin pulled Billy’s mouth to the side as he touched Steve’s hand in a gentle high-five—which he pushed all the way so the back of Steve’s hand hit his face.

“Agh…douche.”

Billy chuckled deep in his chest while the latter heaved a sigh, but closed his eyes when Billy raked a hand through dark hair, pushing it off of Steve’s face.

“G’night, pretty boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going ahead and posting this even though it'll be a while before I finish chapter 4, but I'm working all weekend and your comments will keep me going haha
> 
> Thank you so much, everyone who has shown this fic some love!


	4. Coexist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will's season 1 backstory is in this chapter and may be triggering for people sensitive to stalking. It's brief, though, since it's Steve giving his perspective of things.
> 
> Other than that, NO EDITING WE LIVING FAST AND LOOSE LEGGO

When Billy woke up, Steve was crying.

Billy couldn’t be sure how he _knew_ , but something in the sound of Steve’s breathing shot him out of sleep. Steve lay with his back to him, inducing Billy to touch his shoulder and lean over his body to see the strain on his face. “Steve? _Steve_.”

The weak gasp that came out of him so he would have enough air to say, “I’m fine,” made the strangest feeling of anger catapult through Billy’s chest.

“This _isn’t fine_. Why’re you upset?”

He swallowed like it took a lot of effort. “Nothing like hormones turning your body inside out to get you feelin’ existential.”

Billy relaxed somewhat, easing down onto an elbow. “I didn’t think you knew what that word meant.”

“Nancy taught it to me,” he returned, but Billy reckoned he didn’t have it in him to be anything more than honest.

“What does she usually do for this? Did you two cry a lot together?”

Again, Billy was open for a retort, an insult, even some rude, childish name-calling, but Steve replied, “No. Nancy’s not a crier. We never did that.”

Billy frowned at Steve’s shoulder. “Cry, or spend heats together?”

“Both.”

He cleared his throat, talking seeming to be doing him good, but Billy had caught and stuck on his answer. “I thought you were together for something like, a year.”

The shoulder lifted with Steve’s inhalation. Sank back down when he sighed, “Yeah.”

There really wasn’t anything else to say but, “Why not?”

Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t answer for so long that Billy exhaled with mild annoyance, quiet defeat as he lay once more on his back.

“How often do you usually want sex?”

Billy’s face turned to look at the back of that dark head. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, just answer the question. Be honest.”

Blue eyes peered at the ceiling. Billy realized they must be approaching midday, but that hardly mattered. It was a cold, grey sky on the other side of the window; the kind that disobeyed the colors in the atmosphere that would otherwise tell the world what time it was.

“I don’t know. It varies. Sometimes I can go every day—more than once a day. Sometimes I’m good for a month or so. Why are we talking about this?”

“And you’re like, fully wrapped up in it?”

“Are you asking me if I use condoms?”

“I’m asking if something in your brain cuts out. Like…maybe you’re in it and you want it, but then not really.”

Steve could feel Billy shrug, his shoulders pulling at the sheets. “It’s not unheard of to be distracted, but I like to enjoy myself and stay locked in—”

Steve sighed again, a soft push of air that just _heaved_ exhaustion. “That’s not it,” he said, quietly enough that if Billy hadn’t stopped talking, he’d have missed it.

“Then what is it?”

Another shake of his head, barely a movement on the pillow. “Nothing.”

Billy rolled over with every intention of making Steve face him and spill whatever the hell seemed to be taking up so much brain power—

But Steve shot up, sitting up and making Billy recoil to his half of the bed. “Jesus—fuck.”

“Max!”

“What’s the matter with you?” Billy exploded right back.

“You’re supposed to take Max to school!”

“She’s _fine_ ,” Billy sighed, a hand on his chest.

“What?” Steve peeked back at him, eyes a little swollen and cheeks splotchy pink.

“I made sure she had arrangements. The Byers lady really likes her and is taking her in the mornings. She can skate or ride on the the twerps’ bikes.”

His eyes followed the line of Steve’s back under the thin shirt as he breathed and processed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he finished, snaking an arm over Steve’s lap while his mouth found the exposed skin between shirt and shorts. Because with the sheets open and the bed exposed, Billy smelled a lot of _Steve_. He wanted to move his lips over the muscles there: strong planes of sinew dipping low and crowning Steve’s pelvis with elegant dimples. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Steve’s hand overlapped his arm, but he remained still while Billy kissed his back. From one smooth ridge to the other, Billy took his time, even detouring up the spine a little to push his nose against the soft confines of Steve’s shirt.

Billy felt Steve trying to get his attention, a little squeeze on his wrist. “Hm?”

“I wanna lie down.”

“Roll over and you can.”

Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest way he could’ve offered for Steve to sit on his face, but he didn’t think it was bad enough for Steve to mutter, “No thanks,” and get out of bed.

“Where are you going?” he purred darkly, rougher than how jilted he felt.

Steve picked up a fresh pair of shorts and underwear from his desk chair pile. “Bathroom. Don’t come in.”

“Don’t pass out.”

To the faint soundtrack of tooth brushing, peeing, and the shower, Billy realized two things. One: he was as hard as a steel rod. Morning wood combined with Steve’s scent in his brain, Billy kind of marveled at how he hadn’t noticed it sooner. Two: something weird was going on with Steve’s heat. He didn’t know what, but Steve had just fed him too many details that didn’t make sense.

Nancy had never been here for this. Billy’s alpha pride _crowed_ at that. He even wiggled a little bit, getting extra comfy in the bed. Granted, Steve had said he usually does this alone, but he dated an alpha for a year? Seemed hard to believe until now.

Steve asked about his libido. That got Billy particularly stuck.

_You’re ready to use me as a sex toy._

Certain things were common knowledge about omega heats—mostly how they were nearly the same as alpha ruts, but omegas could self-lubricate. Which means a hefty amount of sex was expected and—sure, heavily joked about by pubescent wastoids—why the school nurse’s office had a large wicker basket full of condoms. Billy had visited to get a bandaid for a wound that didn’t exist, just to get twenty minutes out of chemistry, but helped himself to the shiny, blue parcels.

But…Steve and Nancy had been sexually active. Small town like this, everyone knew who traded v-cards, and Wheeler had given Steve hers. After his first day and falling into bed with Laurie, Billy had the strange pillow talk experience of her bragging about taking Steve’s. That only bothered him up until she scorned how Steve threw her aside for someone else. Billy had smirked all the way from her bed to his car.

Then why had Steve never invited Nancy for this? Better yet, why the hell did he invite Billy? It had been the ace into getting his father off his and Max’s backs, but that’s where it could have ended. Billy would have thought that Steve somehow didn’t want sex during his heat, but that kind of went against the physiology.

Didn’t it?

And even if that were the case, still: why invite Billy? Okay, he had given Billy his own room—which he refused to use but Steve had yet to complain. He made it clear that Billy’s task was to take care of him or fuck off. Sex was still the elephant in the room but Billy gave it a cautious berth, and Steve had not approached him further about it.

Billy kicked off the heavy covers, adjusted his erection in his sweatpants, and started with the bedside dresser on his side. Nothing but miscellaneous trinkets, spare buttons, and a crumpled dollar. He circled the bed to try the other one, and got halfway through the second drawer before Steve emerged from the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Snooping.”

“Oh. Okay,” Steve retorted and dumped his laundry in the basket. Billy peeked at him leaving to go excavate the kitchen. He’d _never_ heard of an omega leaving their nest unless it became a dire situation. He heard the blender and figured maybe it was, in its own way. Meanwhile, Billy moved on to Steve’s dresser after a brief look underneath his mattress corners. He found it in the bottom drawer.

“There we go,” he chuckled the same moment Steve came in, sipping on his slushie. He froze at the sight of Billy holding up a purple dildo.

“Take that to your room if you’re gonna use it, and wash it before you so much as point it at me.”

“Aw, you’d let me use your dildo?” Billy laughed his maniacal, gleeful laugh and threw himself onto the bed, landing on his back. “No way in hell. I want to know how you managed to get this. I’ve driven all over this town and then some. There isn’t an adult store anywhere.”

Steve heaved a sigh as he got back on his side of the bed—as much of his side that Billy had left him—but it wasn’t the same crushing sound to Billy’s ears this time. “Doctor prescription.”

Billy’s head craned up to look at him sipping against the headboard. “You’re joking.”

Steve shook his head around his straw. “Omega consultation gets you pamphlets and a magazine to mail order one. I can even have it delivered to the doctor’s first and pick it up. For discretion.”

Billy looked like a kid in a candy store. “Where’s this magazine?”

“I gave it to some teammates to jerk off. It backfired.” Steve chuckled in such a way that had Billy turning on his side, fully attentive. Steve provided, “It mostly made them feel inferior.”

“Why? They wanna be purple and circumcised?” Billy waved the dildo like a wand. “You like them cut, huh?”

“Shut up. I didn’t know what I was doing. A doctor hands you a magazine of stuff you’ve only heard about from friends stealing porn, what do you do? But I knew it was probably the only chance I’d get. The bill went straight to the insurance company instead of my parents.”

Billy giggled, turning the damn thing over in his hands. “What made you decide on this one?”

Steve shrugged. “Figured a dick would be a good place to start? I didn’t know anything about plugs.”

Billy’s smile shifted into a sincere gape, because frankly, neither did he. But he sure wanted to. “When’s your next doc appointment? Get another one of those mags.”

Steve licked his lips under rolling eyes. “There’s an adult store off the I-10 south. It’s in a strip mall. Best kept secret in Hawkins.”

“Then everybody knows about it,” Billy chuckled.

“Yep.”

“Wonder if business is booming.”

“Every now and then you see someone carrying a light blue bag.”

“Yeah?” Billy grinned.

“Knock off Tiffany blue,” Steve huffed.

Billy released a deep, chest laugh and drew himself up to sit beside Steve against the headboard. Mostly speaking to himself, he narrated, “I assume there’s a button here…?”

They both heard the click of the silicone-wrapped button on the base, behind the knot. Nothing happened. Billy looked at Steve when he explained, “Charger’s underneath the Christmas sweaters.”

“Why isn’t it charged now?”

Steve peered at him with a little smirk around his straw. “I got the impression most alphas didn’t like it in the back.”

“Most alphas lack imagination,” Billy retorted and swerved right back on topic. “Shouldn’t this be ready for you now? Why haven’t you charged it?”

He rolled a shoulder. “I’ve only used it a few times. Didn’t really meet my expectations. It’s more of a last-ditch effort.”

Billy gave it a wiggle. “There’s no body attached to it. I can imagine.”

Of all the things Billy could say, Steve never expected that. He caught his snort in his hand, turning his face away so he didn’t spit slushie on him. “I didn’t think you were a full package kind of guy.”

“I am the full package.”

“Ugh,” Steve looked at the window instead of him.

Billy laughed. “Of course I want to be with a person instead of something off an assembly line. Who doesn’t?”

Steve didn’t answer. Billy glanced over at him gulping down his drink and looking everywhere but him. When he did come up for air, he asked, “You gonna shower?”

“You saying I smell?”

“Yeah.”

Billy blew a snide gust of air out of his mouth as he rotated to climb out of bed. He set the dildo on his bedside table. “Okay, diva. I’m only doing this because it’s your own sweat on my skin. You’ll melt as soon as I work up a lather.”

Since his bag remained in the guest room, Billy left to go use its bathroom. Steve waited until he heard the guest room close, and then leaned over onto Billy’s side of the bed.

Billy smelled _good_.

Like, _holy shit_ , Steve wondered if the feeling crawling down his body was more akin to what the rest of the student body experienced on a regular basis. It’s not that Steve had never experienced lust. Sure, he got those special aches; the wild sparks of shooting need that were equal parts thrilling and annoying, but they always fizzled out as soon as he actually had a person to please. As soon as the fantasy became a reality, something in his brain ducked out of the bedroom.

Steve reached back to set his drink down and then returned to nuzzle the smell of Billy’s hair, let his open hand rest over the sheet. To be honest, he was impressed. He wasn’t blind to Billy’s erection in his pants. It rested up by his hip, discrete but still there. Billy did not act on his arousal, and had only manhandled him one time, at Steve’s request. He stuck his nose into every damn thing he could find, but here was Steve with his face against Billy’s fading warmth, so…there’s that.

If he was being _really_ honest, sex was much easier with the dildo. He hadn’t charged it because his pride wouldn’t let him turn the thing on with Billy nearby. The very idea of the alpha bursting into his room at the sound of something vibrating made Steve feel…feel ashamed. Made something on the back of his neck crawl and recoil in his chest. A cooperative libido was hard enough to come by without someone else’s teasing. Without someone else watching.

He knew Billy’s shower would probably be short, and it occurred to him too late that his wet hair would leave a mark wherever he rubbed himself on Billy’s side. Steve took one last, quick inhale and reared back—

A whine rose out of him, sudden and _loud_. Steve clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. It was his voice, but it had taken over his whole chest in a way it _never_ had before. It was the kind of cry Will had made when he had to leave Steve for the hospital.

The sound of footsteps.

Steve all but slammed his back against the headboard, finding his cup and nearly spilling it twice in his rushed attempt to flip the pillow over and look nonchalant before Billy stepped into the doorway. Shirtless.

“Did I hear something?” he asked, puzzled and damn cute in his sincerity and wet hair raked to one side. Steve gulped slushie and shook his head.

Unconvinced, Billy’s gaze wandered the room before he set his bag on the floor. He swung the door shut, making sure it closed, Steve noted, and then crouched to dig out a shirt.

“You’re not having breakfast?” he asked while Billy smoothed the fabric down.

“I’m good to go without. The smell will make you sick, right?”

And that…well. Steve didn’t have a response to that. The bed moved with Billy’s weight on it, a cocky smile pointed Steve’s way. “You can be charmed by me. It’s okay.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” he retorted.

“Is the sheer enjoyment of my company not a good enough reason?”

Steve meant to huff but it bubbled into laughter. “You’re so full of yourself, you’d drink your own piss.”

Billy grinned as he listened to Steve’s mirth. “No, I draw the line there. I am interested in those purple potatoes, though.”

He’d caught Steve with a mouthful of Gatorade, through which he risked a brain freeze to chide, “You can’t eat my food!”

“Oh, I’m eating it.”

“There’s cereal in one of the cabinets. Something cold won’t set me off.”

“I can eat potatoes cold.”

“You’re going to eat your shit-eating attitude once my stomach settles.”

“Wow. You’re fiery about this,” Billy crooned. Steve couldn’t tell if he was impressed or condescending. “When does this feasting start?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully,” Steve diffused. Billy observed how his lips closed around the straw, but something moved beneath his features; a twinge of pain somewhere in his body that made him hold the cup to his chest instead.

“Do you want me to hold onto that?”

“You’re going to drink it.”

“Yeah, but I’ll make you another one.”

Steve considered it before slumping all the way to lie on his back, relinquishing the slushie. He listened to Billy stirring with the metal straw and the soft, wet smacks of lips and tongue. The deep bob of a swallow. There was something…comforting in the sounds. Just another person living beside him that lulled Steve into a unique state of respite.

He didn’t realize he had dozed off until he felt the straw on the side of his mouth.

“Last sip?”

Steve closed his eyes but opened his mouth for Billy to do the work in situating the straw without spilling the cup. The straw gurgled and he relaxed his mouth for Billy to take the cup to the kitchen. Steve heard the sink and some telltale signs of cooking, but when Billy returned, he took a smaller bag out of his duffel and brushed his teeth in the bathroom. When he returned, Steve chimed “What’d you have?”

“Eggs and toast.”

“Mm. I like salt or hot sauce on mine.”

“Are you telling me that so I remember it?”

“It’s conversation. But while we’re at it: yes.”

“Is there a deadline for your next slushie surge?” Billy taunted.

Steve barely shook his head against the pillow. “I’ll make it if you’re asleep.”

That…didn’t sit well with Billy. Steve kept getting his own things. His eyes were closed while he spoke but Billy wondered if he always felt this tired. How much energy did he have to dredge up to stand? To scoop ice or hold himself underneath the shower?

“I can only sleep so much,” he answered, but he didn’t know what he meant by it.

“The pool panel is outside the back door. It’s set to the fifties, but you turn the knob until the temp you want is on the screen. Between seventy-eight and eight-two is what we usually use.”

Billy frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

“It takes a few hours to warm up.”

“Are you swimming?”

“No? I don’t have a lot to keep people busy.”

“You sure about that? Big place like this is bound to be full of toys.”

“Just the pool,” Steve exhaled. “And movies downstairs. Some boxed sets of shows.”

“You don’t have a billiards table somewhere?”

“This is a _sophisticated_ household.”

“And a velvet table isn’t?”

A smile flashed on Steve’s face but it faded quickly. “My mom’s got books in her office but I should be the one to get those if you want ‘em.”

Billy slid down to lie on the bed beside him. “I’ll manage. Keeping you awake should occupy me for a while.”

“Ugh, jeez…”

Billy pinched his nostrils, earning a nasally grunt and a clumsy smack on the face when Steve tried to find it with his eyes closed. He managed to pull Billy’s hand off his face, but he didn’t go far with it. He settled just holding Billy’s wrist between them.

“Tell me about the bat.”

Steve took his time inhaling, but when no response came, Billy lifted those fingers and poked all over the side of his face. “ _Billy_ ,” he groaned in one long syllable.

“Steve. Tell me about the bat.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“You stuck it in my shoulder. You owe me.”

“You owe me a slushie.”

And then Billy _got up_ , and Steve lifted his head when he heard the loud blender in the kitchen. He frowned when it went on for a suspiciously long time, and Billy returned with the gallon-sized watering can from downstairs. It landed with a heavy thud next to the dildo on the bedside table. “Let me know when you need watering.”

Steve’s features opened as wide as much as his tired and light-sensitive self could manage before he collapsed with laughter. He bounced when Billy landed on the mattress, but he drew a pillow over his face while he kept on laughing. Eventually his muffled voice said, “Please tell me you washed that first.”

“This will go better for you if you stop assuming I’m an idiot.”

“I’m kind of an authority on idiots,” he retorted, but he emerged from the pillow red-faced, with his hair swooshing in all directions. “Okay, okay… Thanks.”

Billy had to admit, tipping a watering can over Steve’s face was more enjoyable than a beer hose. It was stupid and fun and Steve grinned drunkenly at the ceiling after his throat worked through a swallow. When Billy noticed his arm moving underneath the covers, however, he gave Steve’s diaphragm a poke. “What are you doing down there?”

“Cramps.”

Billy moved the covers further down Steve’s body to see him massaging his lower abdomen. Steve’s other hand pointed to his desk. “Could you, um, bring those towels over here?”

Billy retrieved the pile of towels on the desk to place on Steve’s bedside table. He took one and situated it underneath his pelvis while Billy tried not to sway in the cloud of _Steve_ that bloomed in the room. Fresh and oddly clean with the slightest tinge of salty body odor, but it didn’t bother Billy. The smell was alluring and strangely comforting. It overwhelmed him in the way it slammed into his brain and made him salivate, made his glands itch.

“You good?” Steve murmured when Billy kept standing beside him.

“Yeah,” he swallowed and climbed over Steve’s legs to his side of the bed. “It’s just…a lot.”

“I’m not even messy yet.”

“ _Slow the hell down_ ,” Billy exhaled with an arm thrown over his eyes. He heard Steve snort a little before he kept moving fabric around. Billy peeked out from under his arm to see another towel under his head and shoulders. “You planning to sweat a lot?”

“I don’t like the chlorine smell staying in my pillow.”

“You have _chlorine_ in your glands?” he balked.

“I swim everyday.”

“That shit’s supposed to _wash out_ in the shower.”

“You have the guest room if it’s too much.”

“No, you’re distracting me from the story behind the bat.”

“Oh,” Steve mused quietly, like he’d actually forgotten. “Your attention span is pretty good.”

“It’s hard to forget when my shoulder hurts.”

“There’s ibuprofen in my bathroom.”

“Thanks. I’ll get it later.”

“Did you take your antibiotics?”

“Are you serious?”

“You’re supposed to take it with food, right?”

“ _Steve_. Yes, I already took it. Stop trying to take care of me.” Billy suddenly realized Steve might’ve meant something else when he complimented Billy’s attention span. Turning onto his side, he prompted, “Give me three details about the bat. And they can’t obvious things like ‘it’s made of wood and the nails are grey.’”

Steve took his time, wincing slightly as he turned to likewise face Billy. He breathed heavily for a moment, hand moving on his tummy until Billy reached across and took his place. Pressing circles into the swollen area, he both marveled at the feeling of someone else’s soft muscle, but also at the way Steve slowly relaxed. In the quiet of the room, Billy felt like he could touch Steve’s pain, because he visibly relaxed under Billy’s touch.

It didn’t make Billy feel powerful. More like he was meeting Steve on a fragile level.

“Um,” Steve tried. “It was Jonathan’s before I kind of stole it. There were supposed to be more nails in it but I…interrupted. It’s probably for the better because I used it last year.”

Billy let that settle before pushing, “Is that all you’re going to give me?”

“It’s not _my_ business to tell,” Steve pushed back.

“But it’s the Byers’ again. What kind of shit are they into?”

“Nothing. It’s not their fault.”

“Then what were you into? Did the other end of the bat deserve it?”

“Yeah. They definitely fucking deserved it.”

Billy pressed figure-eights into Steve’s belly, his eyes searching his face for more but it was already in Steve’s voice. “Alpha?”

“Billy.” Steve’s eyes opened but he didn’t look up. “This is the kind of thing that could ruin my whole swimming career.”

“Not if it was self-defense. Are you saying it went further than that?”

Steve poised a tired glare at him. “Why are you so interested in this?”

Billy grinned. “I’ve _never_ seen anyone just casually walk out of a house with a nailed bat before. It was kinda hot.”

Steve’s eyes rolled under a blink. “You’re kinda deranged.”

“I’ve been hot for you since I first saw you turn a whole pack of alphas’ heads. Then I find out you put this place in line with nothing but a keg stand record?”

But Steve sighed, “It’s just high school. The shit they tell you to care about doesn’t actually matter.”

“Then what does matter?” Billy challenged.

“A kid going missing.”

That cleared Billy’s head. He didn’t need to ask if it was Will. “Did he go missing or did he run away?”

“Both. A rogue alpha was in the area, hunting him down. Poor kid had to wander the woods for days to hide and lose him. He wasn’t safe in his own house even though he kept sneaking back for food. Eventually the alpha would catch on, though, and just wait. Jonathan and Nancy figured that out.”

“They’ve been a thing for a while, huh?”

Steve rolled a shoulder. “At the time, I thought Jonathan had gone into heat and it was all just bad timing. He and I had gotten into a fight. Nancy was involved—it’s a whole thing. Nance told me on Halloween that it wasn’t an accident. Jonathan induced a heat as bait.”

Billy’s hand stopped moving. “That scrawny pair really thought they could take on a rogue pedophile?”

“Doesn’t matter. I showed up to tell Jonathan I was sorry, but there’s Jonathan, in the middle of hammering nails into a bat, sweating through his clothes—the whole house reeked between his heat and Nancy’s nerves.

“They told me to leave. I almost left. Sprinted back to my car and everything, but the asshole had already learned the house. He came in the back door. I figured, when have I ever listened to alphas, even if one of them is Nancy? Christ, she had a gun and everything, but we were just kids.”

Steve didn’t know why he was spilling all this to Billy, but the guy shoved his other hand underneath Steve’s hip to hold his waist, spiraling his thumbs right where he needed it. “Nancy had bullets but you still needed the bat? Poor shot.”

“Not really. She keeps a real clear head unless she’s wasted. She fired warning shots while I ran back inside and found the bat. Jonathan had already been knocked to the floor, so I didn’t think about it. I swung, and then he was on me. Nancy shot some part of him, I don’t know where, but it was enough to make him leave the house.

“Running after him wasn’t my brightest idea. Nancy shot him from a distance, slowing him down and giving me something to smell. Turns out, Hopper and Mrs. Byers had found Will and were on their way back to the house. They found me swinging homeruns into the guy’s ribs. Hopper pulled me off like I weighed nothing, fuck. Don’t underestimate his beer gut.”

“Noted. Why did you run after him? He might not have been alone.”

Steve shook his head a little. “I don’t know. He just…in a split second, all I saw was everything that makes us miserable. The piece of shit had gone as far as my own house tracking Will—I didn’t believe one of Nancy’s friends when she said she smelled something behind my house. She’s omega, I should’ve trusted her, but I was used to hiding behind my dad’s name. Behind other alphas I managed to convince I wasn’t…”

His words trailed off, like maybe he didn’t know how to finish the sentence, or perhaps didn’t want to. “We were just kids, and I’m just omega. I wanted to go down swinging.”

A different smell drifted to Billy’s nose. He watched Steve wipe and scratch his nose, not so discretely wiping tears from his eyes—

“By the way, if you squeal, I’ll dye that bat red with you.”

“It’s always been my color,” Billy soothed, “but I’ve never been the snitching type. Max wouldn’t get away with half of her shit if I was. You have no idea what you accomplished on that phone.”

“Dad’s a real prick behind closed doors, huh?”

Billy blew a sharp sound between his teeth. Steve sniffed and added, “We have a lot of junior varsity alphas. Coach is…good at reading people. And it’s hard to hide bruises in a speedo. The swimnasium gives a lot of alphas a place to go. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to get you in there, the way you flaunt your muscles.”

Billy hummed a note that did nothing to hide his pride. “So you noticed?”

“Shut up,” Steve laughed breathily.

“Nope. Soon as I can, I’m looking into how to switch gym for swimnasium workouts. If I have it my way, you’ll see a whole lot of me.”

Steve lifted curious eyes to his, and Billy’s chest filled with uncomfortably frilly movements. “Do people do that?”

“Gym’s my last period of the day. Why not? They have it set up that any student can get in there with our id’s. There’s gotta be some kind of system in place for it.”

Steve’s gaze wandered his face before distinctly flicking elsewhere. He blurted a soft, “ _Uh_ ,” when Billy tugged him a little closer for his attention.

“What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing. You’re bad enough without me enabling you.”

“It’s worked out so far, right?” he teased, going back to one hand pushing circles on his abdomen. His other moved further behind Steve’s back, massaging over the dimples in his back. He couldn’t help the little smirk on his face when Steve did a little half-blink at the sensation.

“I’ve seen mates get special privileges. But that would mean I have to like you.”

“I’m extremely likable.”

Steve huffed, “Maybe, but I still don’t share.”

Billy smiled more freely. “Pretty boy like you? Could have the whole school. What’s wrong with lil old me?”

Steve giggled more with every word he said. “You’re not little, and you’re extremely in my face every chance you get.”

“I want to be looked at.”

“Yeah? By who else? You smell better without the cologne, by the way. Whoever your date was, they have garbage taste.”

“That’s expensive shit, Harrington.”

Steve leveled deadpan eyes at him. “It’s a waste. You smell better.”

The ghost of a smile drifted on Billy’s face, because frankly, he had no idea how to react. He didn’t expect to feel, well… _spoiled_.

“What should I spend my money on, then?”

Those bold brows twitched on Steve’s face before he peeked up at him, confused. Billy elaborated, “What fancy paper would you want me to use to stuff bad poetry into your locker?”

Steve exhaled a breath, but it was around a small smile. “I don’t know anything about poetry.”

“Never knew an omega who didn’t like flowers.”

“I’ve always been the one buying flowers.”

“Jesus, Wheeler never got you flowers? She’s making it easy to sweep you off your feet.”

“Be nice. I never asked for flowers.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask.”

Billy didn’t like that Steve defended his ex. He really didn’t like that he turned the blame onto himself. However that train of thought derailed as Steve blinked up at him with some kind of renewed interest. Something soft.

And then Steve moved himself right into Billy’s space, easing down so he could drape an arm over Billy’s waist, tuck himself underneath Billy’s jaw. Billy suddenly had his arms full of Steve.

“This is nice, but there’s no way you’re this cheap—”

Steve’s large hand covered his mouth and nose. “Don’t ruin this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy, you're so much nicer asking questions instead of giving orders.
> 
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	5. Mixed Signals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This delay is brought to you by my cat, who is going absolutely nuts during the Harvest Moon :))
> 
> I'll read through this tomorrow and probably adjust so many sentences lol but I'm happy it's up for you guys <3 We hit 94 subs today! You're wild and I madly appreciate your eyeballs on my words ~

Steve woke up with a _problem_.

A very wet, very sloppy problem between his legs, and the epicenter of it was an ache that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be painful or…eager. Steve felt needy, like the urgency of an itch, crawling up his spine to steal his breath and pulse in his brain with every beat of his heart.

Steve thought of his vibrators in his drawer. He didn’t know if Billy had only found the dildo, or had seen something outright shaped like a penis and dove for that one. Either way, Steve had two choices.

Option one: try to slither out of bed in the state he was in to reach his dresser, which would undoubtedly involve clumsiness, failed silence, exposing his smell to the whole room, and make slick run down his legs.

Option two: the dildo was closer, but between Steve and it was a large, sleeping alpha. Billy was a whole, multifaceted dilemma all on his own, and the dildo wasn’t even charged.

Steve rolled his eyes, annoyed and scolding himself for seeing option one as the better of the two. At least, if he managed to limit his scent from going everywhere, Billy might stay unconscious. He might start masturbating in his sleep, but dignity had long since left the building. Steve could barely judge any of Billy’s wet dreams or bodily functions when it felt like a pint of slick was soaking into the towel beneath him.

Slowly reaching under the covers, Steve focused through his tired headache to reach his waistband. If he could remove his ruined shorts and expose them to the open air without alerting Billy, then odds were good. If nothing else, Steve needed a fresh towel underneath him.

Lifting his knees, he toed the shorts off, and voila. He threw them across the room to the laundry basket and collapsed back onto his pillow, breathing heavily. He laid very still as Billy rolled over towards him. Steve peeked at him, observing Billy’s face smushed against his pillow and how his breaths maintained their ocean sway rhythm.

Reaching toward the pile of towels, Steve held one as it fell open and he began to slide out of the bed. He never knew how loud fucking fabric was until now, but he managed to slither out from underneath the comforters and wrap his pelvis and legs right as his knees gave out. Thankfully, his mother had insisted on carpeted floors, and put runners on either side of his bed to boot. His knees and a palm softly thudded on the floor, and he began to crawl for his dresser.

He breathed a sigh of accomplishment when he looked down over his holiday sweaters. Not that his mother ever pried into his stuff anymore, but keeping his toys underneath the garments only touched once a year remained a safe habit.

Steve had accumulated a decent collection. Half of it he didn’t use because he had simple needs and a few trusty friends did the job. He found his black prostate massager. The wishbone-like shape was wrapped in matte black silicone and the knobby ends—one shorter than the other—vibrated separately or together. The thing performed damn near silently inside the body and kept a charge better than all the others.

He swallowed thickly and didn’t bother so much with finesse to get back into bed. The previous towel had to go and the fabrics were too damn loud. He had all he needed, even if it meant tucking it away and waiting for later.

Billy proved a heavy sleeper, or maybe just persistent. After briefly mumbling, “ _Move too much_ ,” he settled again after Steve’s hushed, “Sorry.”

Good enough. If nothing else, Steve just wanted something moving inside of him, massaging the sore ache so he could just _breathe_. It didn’t take much labor, either, slick as he was, to push the longer knob inside—

The whine that broke out of him, though, when it pushed right up into the ache had both Steve and Billy’s eyes popping open. All Steve could do was chirp an embarrassed, “Um,” when Billy leaned over him to see how far down his arm went.

“Steve.”

“Mind your business,” he snapped, rolling as far as he could so Billy couldn’t see his face.

“This is my business,” he crooned, his voice sounding way too pleased for how sleep-heavy it was. “Need a hand?”

“ _No_.”

If nothing more than out of sheer, hardheaded will, Steve intended to get the massager where he needed it—

His teeth barely gnashed around another whine before it completely broke out of his chest, making his head swim on its way out so he breathed heavily, dizzy. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” Billy said quietly behind him. “That’s a…unique sound.”

It sure as hell was, and Steve could only imagine it was Billy’s fault because _he_ was the variable here. But that opened a lot of avenues of thought Steve didn’t want to contemplate right now.

“Just…don’t talk,” he huffed, finally curling his fingers around the base to turn it on. “ _Nng! Hahh!_ ”

“ _Steve_ , for god’s sake, that sound fucking _hurts me_. Let me do something.”

Steve’s vision blurred when _all_ of Billy’s front landed against _all_ of Steve’s back. His shoulder hitched, only knocking Billy’s jaw deeper into the curve of his neck. It was all Steve could do to hold the button long enough for it to stop vibrating.

“I’m not—” he tried, but the words slammed to a halt in his throat. He felt stuck between being somehow ticklish in his chest and over-sensitive to Billy’s arms encircling his waist. “I’m not—mm.”

“Not what?”

But Steve caught Billy’s hand reaching for his erection. “No!”

“Why?”

“I don’t—mm.”

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t—” Steve struggled. “I don’t—”

_I don’t usually enjoy this with other people._

“Just say it,” Billy pushed.

“I don’t—” he repeated like a broken record before he decided to try a different track. He huffed, “Sonofabitch. I’m not trying to give you mixed signals.”

“What’s mixed about this? You’re hard and I’m right here. I’m offering.”

He managed to get his palm around the head of Steve’s penis, but the latter held firm to his wrist. “I take too long to cum. Don’t bother.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Keep your ego in your pants, asshole.” Billy chuckled right into Steve’s ear, but he pressed as much of himself as he could into his pillow. “Billy, I don’t _want_ you to.”

He removed his hand instantly. Billy leaned his weight enough back to give Steve room. “Is that what you meant by mixed? You’re ready to go but not with me?”

“No, it’s everybody,” he deflated. He winced as he pulled the toy out, letting it stay on the towel under the covers. He exhaled quietly, “I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Like what?”

He could hear the doubt low in Billy’s voice. The wait. Waiting for a punch line at Billy’s expense.

Steve swallowed a large frog. “I don’t really like sex with other people.”

A second passed. “As opposed to what?”

Steve peeked over his shoulder without looking at him. “What? Like…by myself?”

“Oh,” Billy chirped, and the rustle of him reclining back on his pillow overshadowed the _relief_ in that word.

“What do you mean _oh_?” Steve exclaimed.

“I thought you were confessing something freaky on me.”

“Dude, don’t be gross.” Steve kicked a leg back at him, only to have it shoved right back as Billy left his leg in Steve’s space. “What the hell do people get up to in California that gives you these assumptions?”

“Sometimes a shark just hits the spot.”

“No it doesn’t. Sharks have sandpaper skin.”

“Well, look at you,” Billy appraised like knowing something about the ocean was an accomplishment.

“Shut up.” Steve yanked the covers back over himself even at the risk of passing out from his own body heat. His fingertips found his slick entrance and pressed ever so gently on the sore, wrinkled skin, as well as the surrounding area. A heavy breath eased out of him, and then all at once. It was enough, massaging his aching insides from without; the pressure around his hole spreading like water ripples.

“But everyone knows your bed trail.”

Steve sighed, frustrated but patient, “No, they don’t.”

“You’re saying you never slept with Laurie?”

Steve did look at him, then. “What’s Laurie got to do with anything?”

Billy’s eyes lolled under his lashes. “She will not stop bragging about you.”

Steve rolled all the way onto his back, poising incredulous—albeit tired—eyes at him. Billy grimaced ever so slightly under the scrutiny. “ _Laurie?_ You’re dating Laurie?”

“We’re not dating. We fucked once.”

But Steve laughed, and said through his mirth, “Not really a thing to brag about.”

“The only people bragging are those who claim to have slept with King Steve.”

“Yeah, like trophies are shared.” Steve’s humor faded in an instant.

Billy pivoted his body to prop his head on his palm. “You saying they’re lying? And it doesn’t bother you?”

“Anybody who knows the swim team’s schedule knows that getting around to that many beds isn’t doable. Or I’m just that impressive.”

Billy pushed his knee against Steve’s thigh. “What’s your number, then?”

Steve closed his eyes, shaking his head at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why? Somebody’s got to be telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just something to hold over my head when I don’t put out.”

He could feel Billy’s eyes wandering his face. “If you don’t like it, then why do you?”

Steve brushed the backs of his fingers across his forehead, moving his hair off his face. “Curiosity, at first. Heard it was great, so why not? Masturbating is nice, but… Laurie’s got nothing to brag about. I didn’t cum.”

Billy chuckled deep in his chest. “It’s not often the guy has the trouble getting his spunk out.”

Steve pointed hard eyes at his headboard before looking elsewhere. “Thanks for that.”

“No, explain it to me,” Billy pushed again when Steve’s tone hinted at the end of it. “So Laurie was a bust. Everyone knows you took Nancy’s cherry. You were together a long time.”

Steve took a while to answer, but Billy gave him time. “It was easier when she was new to sex. The ball was in my court. I could get her off and go to sleep and she wouldn’t notice anything was different about me.”

“Surely you got off _some_ times with her?”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know. The stars practically had to align.”

“What are the stars? Weed, nachos, and _bam_?”

“You really have a way of speaking.”

Billy released a throaty giggle, liking the way those big eyes found him, flicked down to his lips when Billy shifted a little closer. “Can’t really imagine Wheeler getting high.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“It doesn’t paint the best picture, you needing to light up your girlfriend in order to _reach your zenith_.”

“My _what_ —Would you stop?” Steve whined, looking a bit more awake as he added, “I might assume shitty things about you but I don’t outright paint you as a criminal.”

“Stop leaving me wondering, then. What’d it take for you to get off?”

“I don’t know,” he stalled. “Feeling safe? Nancy picked up gossip but she never dished it back out. After her first time, she was worried everyone in school knew, but I hadn’t told anyone. Unlike _my_ first time. Nancy got it. It was the first relationship I had that was actually between the two of us; it wasn’t spread out across the whole school. I was allowed to have my pace and she had other interests. She didn’t rely on sex to get through the week.”

“Is that a stab at me?”

Steve glared at him, deadpan. “You didn’t invent recreational sex.”

Billy disregarded that and asked, “Was this before or after the bat incident?”

“What, our first time or—?”

“ _Your_ first time cumming.”

“After.”

“You felt safe with her after she and Byers had already started their thing?”

“I already said,” Steve droned, “I didn’t know it was a thing until Halloween—last week. By then she knew I was different.”

“Because you didn’t spend heats together,” Billy replayed.

Steve shuffled a little, moving downward while he lifted the covers up his chest. “She apologized to me, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Now see,” Billy remarked slowly while pushing a sweaty bit of hair behind Steve’s ear, “I think that’s a lie.”

“Why?” Steve asked, but it sounded like a weak comeback in his own ears.

“You’ve said ‘ _it doesn’t matter’_ too many times. Why did you ask me about how often I want sex?”

Steve struggled around a swallow, which prompted Billy to pour the watering can into the forgotten cup on his bedside table. “Thanks,” Steve mumbled around the straw.

But as he watched Steve curl his arm underneath his head to raise his mouth high enough to drink without sitting up, Billy began to wonder if something was wrong. “You’re sweating as much as yesterday.”

“Ith my glanths,” he mumbled around the straw. “Lotta sthuff to get out.”

Billy carefully pulled the straw from his teeth and set the cup elsewhere. “Come here. Lie across the bed.”

“Why?”

“I can clean your glands. Come on, move it.”

“What’re you in a rush for?” Steve complained, but nonetheless followed instructions. Billy shoved their pillows against the headboard while Steve managed to stretch himself only diagonally across the bed. With the covers moving, Billy peeked at the black massager being left behind, but focused on getting a fresh towel under Steve’s shoulders.

“Sit up for a second.”

“Huh?” Steve sighed.

“Let me get a pillow under your back,” Billy argued while Steve curled up long enough for a pillow to go under his ribs. It kept Steve’s torso lifted enough so his head, neck, and the tops of his shoulders sloped down. “It gives my hands room to move. Do you have oil somewhere?”

“No?”

“No cleaning oil?”

Steve’s eyes wandered before he admitted, “Oil for glands?” from his place just shy of Billy’s lap. All at once, Billy felt a little dazed, having Steve’s soft, soft hair against the shin of his curled leg and the inner thigh of his outstretched one. All of his scent, formerly suppressed under the covers, drifted around him. But mostly Billy’s eyes dragged over Steve’s elongated neck, following the veins on either side when they emerged between breaths.

Steve’s lashes moved when Billy’s fingertips slid under the muscle curving between his neck and shoulder. “It might’ve just been baby oil. My mom used it to clean my glands.”

“When?”

“Before I was nine.”

“Oh,” he exhaled softly. Then, “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

Steve’s eyes sagged closed when Billy’s forearms framed his head. His fingertips pushed into the muscle between Steve’s shoulder blades, dragging up either side of his spine to roll circles into his nape. Billy smirked a little at Steve’s mouth hanging open, his front teeth peeking out.

“Whatever skin oil she used, she warmed it up for me.”

“Sorry that you just get my sweat—wait. Nine? Why’d your glands need it before you were nine?”

“It calmed me down.”

He turned Steve’s head to one side, exposing the glistening expanse of his throat and collarbone. Keeping one hand cradling the top of his nape, Billy’s other hand moved along the planes between his shoulder and neck; pinching from the point of bone in his shoulder, all the way up to his neck. It was enough to make Steve grimace, but Billy scraped his fingertips all the way up through his scalp, washing the pain away with tingles.

When he went back to pushing spirals into his skin, Steve mumbled, “She was good at this.”

Billy only hummed an affirming response. As his hands made Steve hot to the touch, sweat beads moved across his skin. Billy began to smell the subtle, but distinct aroma of chlorine that Steve had mentioned. Every so often, he lifted the towel to catch the sweat before is slid and tickled.

“I’m sorry your hands will smell after this.”

“It’s easy to wash my hands,” he said, turning Steve’s head to the other side.

“Not a…dreamy omega smell.”

“There’s a lot more in your scent than chlorine, pretty boy.”

“Unhh…” Steve kind of hummed. “Nice things?”

Billy’s hands paused, but not long enough for Steve to open his eyes. “No one’s told you that you smell good?”

“No one I’d take seriously,” he scoffed.

Billy was glad Steve didn’t look up or else he might’ve seen how ready Billy felt inclined to throttle a certain Wheeler—

“Will said I smell nice, but that doesn’t count, I guess.”

“Of course it doesn’t count,” Billy snapped, albeit it lacked any real bite. His fingers raked over Steve’s scalp, delaying the latter’s response.

“It’s just about the only unbiased opinion I’ll get.”

“The kid’s half alpha.”

“But he’s a kid.”

“Yeah, so why does it matter?”

“It’s _nice_ being told you smell good without the subtext, ‘ _I want in your pants_.’ ”

“You said I smell good,” Billy teased, “You don’t want in my pants?”

“The guy who wears too much cologne wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t wear too much. I wear just enough. Not my fault you don’t like it, which is also a lie.”

Steve blinked his eyes open, but not by much with the cool, midday lighting irritating his retinas. “What do you mean?”

“There’s always some of it lingering in my clothes.”

“It fades eventually.”

“Uh huh,” Billy sassed, but he left it at that. As Steve’s eyes closed once more, Billy felt the subtle tremors of Steve’s swallow; watched the apple in his throat and the micro-movements of Steve’s features. His eyes lingered on the shape Steve’s lips made when he relaxed. He almost hated to change it, but with all of him pliant between Billy’s hands, he asked again, “Why did you ask me how often I want sex?”

Billy expected those features to turn rigid; the flat stillness of annoyance, or discomfort pairing with the desire to remain hidden. Billy didn’t expect Steve to look…sad. He wilted ever so slightly, his eyes opening while he considered how to respond.

“I wanted to know how disappointed you’d be.”

Billy…didn’t have a response for that. Until, “You don’t want me disappointed?”

Steve frowned with his eyes closed. “What?”

But Billy mused aloud, trying to find the right words, “I suppose the opposite of disappointment is being impressed…”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Be impressed by all the sex I’m not offering.”

“What do you do with a girl for a year if you’re dodging around sex?”

“I wasn’t dodging it all the time, and there’s lots to do in a relationship. That electricity doesn’t just come from a boner.”

“What do you like to do, then?”

Steve shrugged, feeling scrutinized as he adjusted himself. “I like being together, whatever that means. Picnics, and staying in the car together until the first bell. Like, going out of your way to be close. Kissing’s great.”

“You like kissing,” Billy clipped.

“Yeah, love it,” he shrugged again, “but it adds to the—”

Billy’s chin might’ve smushed Steve’s nose a bit, but it was Billy’s lips that preoccupied him. Soft, in the delicious way that flesh is. Steve felt a warm and tantalizing thrill at being in the cave of Billy’s body arched over him. His shirt fell over Steve’s face, the fabric delicately brushing Steve’s eyelids and forehead while Billy’s hands cradled his head. Steve heard himself breath against Billy’s skin, and the latter pulled back enough to look at him, to watch those eyes blink slowly as Billy’s thumbs stroked his temples.

“Adds to what?”

Steve’s chest lifted with a careful inhalation, like the moment might break with too strong a movement. He murmured into the quiet space between them, “Mixed signals.”

But something else drifted in the air. A new smell intertwined with Steve’s fragrance. Something savory and sweet, like fresh apricot jam on the stove, or a peach. It made Billy’s mouth water and the glands in his groin tickle, opening to meet it.

At any other time, Billy might’ve felt stupid or desperate for asking, but if _that_ was how Steve smelled just from a kiss…

“Do you want to keep kissing me?”

Steve’s eyes wandered his face. Billy wondered what he saw, or if his eyes just moved with his thoughts.

“Yeah.”

Nothing happened for a long second, like Billy hadn’t heard him right, and waited for that to be confirmed.

What happened was Steve rolled over, a little clumsy as he grasped Billy’s ankle to steady himself, and leaned up to crush Billy’s lips with his own.

Slowly, and then all at once, Billy kissed him back, exploratory pecks mixing with longer connections as he heard Steve’s knees sliding under him. Steve’s mouth went higher than Billy’s, kissing down to him until Billy surged forward. As much as he pushed, Steve pulled, eliciting a breathy moan when Billy’s arm wrapped behind his waist. Billy almost released his own, gasping against Steve’s mouth as his arms moved around Billy’s neck, teasing his glands, practically marking them with a little of Steve’s sweat.

Steve fell onto his back with Billy on him, their pelvises and bellies flush together. It was exactly where Billy wanted to be, on top of Steve, tasting him—and _fuck_. He tasted good. Billy’s tongue slipped against Steve’s lip just as an invitation, but his lips parted for each kiss. Billy’s hand held his cheek as he tilted his head to kiss Steve deeper, but Steve’s tongue met him first. Billy moved his body up, his hand burying in Steve’s hair as he groaned deep in his chest. Underneath sour and sweet Gatorade was a taste only Steve had, and the only place Billy would ever find it was right here, where his tongue fucked Steve’s mouth and he dined on soft little sounds.

Steve’s hands held the back of Billy’s shirt, sometimes exploring the path of his spine and waist. But when Billy’s thigh pushed Steve’s legs apart, the contrast between his warm, slick groin and Billy’s dry sweatpants made him flinch off of Billy’s lips. “Mm! My—um…”

Billy exhaled a hot and husky sound, kissing the side of Steve’s lips and cheekbone. Steve’s little tremor and a hand pushing at Billy’s thigh made him ask, “What is it?”

“You don’t want to put your leg there.”

“Am I crushing your junk?”

“No!” Steve’s bark disintegrated with an involuntary laugh. “There’s a lot of slick. It…it’s gross. Your pants will never dry—”

“Steve,” Billy purred, nuzzling his lips against Steve’s jawline. “I don’t care about my pants. Will you let me take care of you now?”

However uncomfortable or anxious Steve felt, the way he let his head fall back for Billy to kiss his throat had the alpha aching fiercely in his pants. He could feel the telltale wetness soaking closer to his leg, but Steve wasn’t responding.

Billy eased up to see him, and Steve’s wariness was visible enough. The backs of his fingers stroked Steve’s neck while he said, “I’m still here, aren’t I? I don’t think it’s gross.”

Steve pressed his lips to the side, trying and failing to look elsewhere. “Why not?”

Billy hummed through his smirk. “I think it’s sexy.”

Steve’s lips parted to gape at him. Billy wondered if they were chapped from kissing. If not, he’d have to change that. “You’re messing with me.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “My boner is right against yours. What part of this is hard to believe?”

When Steve tried to speak, though, Billy hushed him with his name and a kiss that fell right into another…and another. And then he dragged his pelvis over Steve’s bare erection, causing the omega’s whole body to shudder. When brown eyes darted between his blue ones, he assured, “I don’t think this is a mixed signal.”

He tilted his head to the other side, claiming Steve’s mouth while he rolled his hips again. Something deep and guttural vibrated in Billy’s chest when Steve’s leg rubbed against his thigh and hip. Billy felt inspired to slot himself properly between Steve’s legs and reached for the other one to wrap around his backside. Steve began to stiffen, but before he could raise a complaint, Billy purred, “Just feel good. You don’t have to worry about anything else.”

“No, no, there’s—there’s slick coming out,” Steve insisted around a thick swallow.

“What’s the problem?”

“It’s—if you keep kissing me it’ll be a lot.”

Billy raised amused and only mildly annoyed eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure that’s the idea.”

But when he kissed him again, Steve moved under him, shifting in an unpredictable way that made Billy wonder why he squirmed so much—

A soft little sound burst under the covers. Under Billy. Steve froze until it caught up to him that an alpha on top of him would probably figure it out before he said it. “Um…air bubble.”

Billy processed that awfully quickly and blinked fresh eyes at him. “That happens?”

Steve sighed in the direction of his towels. “Can I wipe myself, please?”

“I’ll do it.”

“You sure won’t—”

They both lunged for the towels. Billy won, whipping one off the pile. “I’m already down here,” he declared with a cocky wave of the fabric. His arm plunged between them with Steve’s chasing after him.

“You have to be— _Nng!_ ” Billy deflated against that omega whine. Steve’s chest heaved like he’d been running, suddenly flushed and high-pitched. “ _Gently!_ You have to be gentle. Everything’s sore!”

“Okay,” he exhaled, touching his cheek to Steve’s. He couldn’t say why he did that, but he wanted to calm him down without inciting further panic. He pushed the meat of his cheek against Steve’s temple and forehead, gently turning his head to whisper over and over into his hair, “Okay. Okay…”

So he started with the legs. Rolling onto his side, Billy took Steve with him so they faced each other. Billy kept a leg over his hip to give him access, and wiped across the inner thigh. Steve’s breathing slowed despite his chest still heaving, and Billy did the same to the other leg. When Steve’s hands fisted the front of Billy’s shirt, he moved the towel through his legs and carefully down the ravine of Steve’s ass.

“This okay?”

Steve swallowed with his eyes closed, nodding and holding onto Billy. “It’s okay. Can you just, um, sort of massage there? Like, little circles.”

“On the hole?”

“ _Yes_ , on the hole. Jesus.”

“Don’t need to get your panties in a twist when you’re not wearing any.”

Steve’s lashes lifted to glare at him. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Not with me, it isn’t,” Billy’s tone softened. Through the towel, he found the place easily, emanating heat as it was. Doing as Steve said, he initially moved little circles there, and then he began to press and wander a bit. Steve opened his eyes sometimes, blinking for a while and then closing them. Billy deviated to larger circles and figure-eights, moving on to a dry section of towel when it soaked through, but not without rubbing his thumb over his fingertips, exploring the texture. He peeked up at Steve, ready for chastisement, but Steve dozed soundly.

Billy rolled out of bed to take the towel to the hamper—

“While you’re up,” Steve mumbled from the bed. Billy turned a petulant glare at him, but Steve continued, “Could you get some water?”

Billy had wanted to use the bathroom to wash his hands, but he uttered a curt, “Yeah,” and went to the kitchen. Except…with each step there, Billy feels a pull in his gut; a strange blend of anger and panic roiling together as he lathered his hands and washed the chlorine sweat down the drain.

His eyes locked onto Steve’s open door. Billy wondered if it was worry twisting in his belly. But why? He’d been with Steve thirty seconds ago, and would be there again in less than a minute. And yet, every second spent waiting on the pair of cups to fill from the filtered spout inside the fridge made Billy feel sick.

_Stop being so damn desperate, Hargrove. It’s fine to like Steve. It’s not fine to scream into a fridge. Calm down._

He drank from his cup on the way there, and Steve lifted himself onto an elbow to accept his own. “Thanks,” he sighed gratefully. Billy paused in placing his cup on the bedside table, absorbing that little smile Steve gave him.

Steve drained the cup dry, and looked at Billy still standing beside the bed. The latter eyed the empty cup. “You good?”

The bulging cheeks deflated as he gulped loudly. “Yeah,” he rasped. “Thanks.”

“Don’t forget about the gallon of melting slushie here,” Billy chided, flopping onto the mattress with a yank to the comforter.

“I needed a break,” Steve defended, and then, “That was nice.”

Billy turned his head on the pillow to see him. They both knew Steve wasn’t talking about the water. Billy’s lashes moved softly over his eyes before he nodded slightly, and turned back to look at the ceiling. “Good.”

He could feel Steve’s attention on him as he too settled on his back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out as hard as it did. He definitely didn’t mean for Steve to silently roll onto his other side, putting his back to Billy after everything that had finally been shared between them.

But something definitely felt _wrong_. Billy folded the comforter off his torso, too hot for it, and…

_No._

_Oh no._

Billy’s own smell hit his senses the same time he felt a violent itch in his glands begin to bloom. The way the room began to teeter and his stomach felt heavy…

The same time Steve looked over his shoulder at him, smelling Billy’s rut with eyes wide and concerned. Through the fog eclipsing Billy’s mind, he began to panic, searching the room like it would have something to stop what had already arrived—

“Billy?”

Steve's voice was so small and concerned it thrashed in Billy’s chest. Steve could _not_ touch him. Billy didn’t know what he would do if—with Steve this close—

He kicked off the covers and bolted from the room in one motion, leaving half the bed cold behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (He just went to the guest room, don't worry lol)
> 
> Billy's ready to go Full Nasty until Steve queefs and then his hormones are like, "You do NOT have the right to be that cute, sexy, and hilarious all at once." -->cue rut.
> 
> Aside from that, these bois are really gathering a collection of stuff on these bedside tables.
> 
> BUT ALSO, you might have noticed that Omega Is King is a series now! because I didn't want to disrupt the flow of this story with the little witchy_au companion chapter I wrote for October. Pop on over there at your leisure <3
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
> [Tumblr~](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/)


	6. Rut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I tried to finish this chapter like 2 weeks ago and hit a wall but WE HAVE PREVAILED.
> 
> Also it's 10pm and my ass is going to sleep. I'll fix typos tomorrow ~

_Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking shit._

Billy slammed the guestroom door behind him and immediately felt the wrongness of the room prickling under skin. Wrong smell. Wrong bed. Wrong wallpaper. All of it felt both sterile and dusty, regardless of how clean the whole house was.

It wasn’t Steve’s room.

Billy had only been here two days and already ached at the distance; tethered to that space…

The accomplishment of moving his bag to Steve’s room seemed like a jape now as he grabbed a pillow on the bed, stuffing it between his legs as he thrust over the slippery, satin duvet for any friction he could get. The back of his mind considered burning the pillow when he left, but the end of the week felt a long, _long_ way off.

* * * * *

_Well. Uh…_

Steve lay in his bed for a few minutes just absorbing the state of events. Tapping his fingers against his diaphragm, he deliberated between worry, amusement, and indifference.

Indifference, because they were both stuck in it now. A sense of peace comes along with being on a sticky rock bottom.

Amusement, because of the latter. Steve had already been a mess for the last couple of days. It seemed like some hilarious, contagious curse for Billy to be in his rut now.

And worry, because…well, he had never seen Billy scared. Hell, most alphas strut around believing fear didn’t exist for them—at least not publically—but Billy had truly seemed like he didn’t anticipate his rut falling over his head.

Steve’s mind went round and round on that. They both probably should have been ready, given an alpha’s hanging around an omega in heat. It made sense for his body to answer Steve’s hormones.

But Billy wasn’t ready.

 _Does he not get his heat all that often, either?_ Steve wondered. _Except Billy actually has sex sort of regularly, so…_

The idea that having a sex life might keep one’s rut from crash landing into their plans fell flat, given how fast Billy ran out of the room.

Steve’s head perked up enough to see Billy’s bag on the floor. Right on the top of the clothes, tucked a little against the side, sat the orange antibiotics bottle. Steve scratched his jaw. It was probably a bad idea to leave his room when Billy was still wired up, right? Or the sooner the better? Billy’s rut would be nothing compared to his shoulder healing improperly—

Could antibiotics trigger a rut?

Dragging himself over to Billy’s side, Steve stretched half his body off the mattress to reach the bag. After he collapsed back onto the bed, he read the symptoms, but nothing so much as hinted at hormonal sabotage…

Steve’s stomach released a loud, gurgling whine. He peeked at the door like it might have something to say, but the answer was in the kitchen beyond it. The time for food had finally arrived.

Steve went to the bathroom first, relieving himself, splashing some water on his face and neck— _Holy shit_ , he thought at the smears of red in his skin from Billy’s massage. It didn’t hurt—far from it, Steve realized his glands were probably long overdue for some attention—but he held a cold washcloth around his neck before donning his towel robe.

As he moved careful steps toward the kitchen, he listened for the guest room off to the side. When Steve steadied himself on the counter, he recognized the sound of the shower going. He decided to set the pill bottle on the counter where Billy would hopefully see it, and gulped a deep breath to get himself to the fridge. He removed an entire pot of soup from a shelf and placed it on the stove. The burner flared red on a low setting, but Steve ladled some into a bowl for the microwave. This way, he could eat a little now, and come back again and again with ease.

He yanked the microwave open before it beeped. Billy’s room remained quiet as Steve hunkered down to sip broth directly from the bowl. With the tiny bit of rejuvenation, he carefully returned to his room. It took a while to finish his first bowl, what with collapsing on the bed as soon as he managed to set it on the side dresser, but the relief from having solid food again warmed him all over.

He meant to go back for more, but he fell deeply asleep.

* * * * *

Billy emptied half the pot before he gripped a semblance of restraint in himself. He’d burst from the room as soon as he smelled the salty broth and spice melody. It looked like a standard chicken noodle soup, but the noodles were thick, like the udon he remembered devouring in California, and the additional spice proved a pleasant surprise and comfort.

He found his pills. Part of him couldn’t believe that Steve had risked coming out here. Another part felt warm for an entirely different reason that Steve had thought to bring the bottle out for him.

Billy drank from the sink for a long time before he planted his hands and stared at Steve’s door. When the fridge stopped making noise and he focused hard enough, he could hear soft, steady snores.

Or maybe that’s just what he wanted to hear. Directly into his ear. Or on his chest. Against his neck.

Figuratively gripping his brain—and something else—in a vice, he used some self-control to refill his bowl with soup, and lock the guest room behind him.

* * * * *

For all the good that did, the evening came and went with Billy staring at the ceiling. Bored, horny, hungry, and more goddamn lonely than he’d ever care to admit.

_How the hell does Steve do this alone?_

Any time Billy got his rut, he would lock himself in his room; only coming out for the meals Susan left for him, and using the bathroom when the house was empty. It was hard to be lonely when he was busy avoiding everyone.

But now he knew what having company meant. How a little conversation eased the feeling of being inside out. How comforting a body lying beside him was, even in slumbering silence. Especially a body he liked.

He liked Steve. He wanted to see him swim more. He wanted to steal food off Steve’s plate and scramble eggs for him, for god sake. The guy had a lot of heart that hid behind a tough, omega exterior…and Billy could understand that a lot—

The all too familiar ringing of a spoon hitting the floor nearly shot him out of bed. Billy stopped himself with a hand gripping the covers in order to listen… Tinkering in the kitchen sink…running water…slurping and then what must have been the soup pot landing in the sink.

Billy rubbed a hand over his face, breathing for clarity through all of his aches. He felt peckish cravings and dehydration rolling against deeper needs. Like the marrow of his bones was picking up volume to sing out to Steve. The back of his throat ached, but he’d be damned if he actually _whined_ like a dog left out in the yard.

But god Steve smelled good.

And his hair was soft.

His dopey smile underneath tired eyes pointed at Billy made him experience an unprecedented mixture of serenity and something else—something primal in a fierce, almost feral way. Billy didn’t want to linger on that part. He just wanted to make sure Steve was okay. And to sleep in Steve’s bed. At the very least, he should make sure Steve didn’t pass out in the kitchen. He may have come here to get in Steve’s pants, but he agreed to take care of him, and it was to both of their surprises that Billy intended to uphold that.

* * * * *

Steve breathed heavily from where he landed on his pillow. Jeez, walking was hard. He didn’t have it in him to chew Billy out for eating most of the soup and not putting the pot in the sink. If anything, he’d try his luck at ordering Billy to carry him back to his room and swing another massage out of it.

Which had absolutely nothing to do with Billy’s smell permeating the room.

Or how Steve clung to Billy’s pillow and ached deep in his pelvis. Steve wouldn’t describe the agony as sexual frustration. There was a frilly edge of lust, yes, but something else made his voice want to scream into that pillow. The omega pitch wanted _out_ , wanted to be heard. Because as obnoxious as it was, to have that hot, fluttery lust goblin finally waking up and drunkenly stumbling about, something bigger lived sore and bruised in his chest. An emotional neediness that only seemed to be growing.

And all of it just made Steve stew angrily on his bed. _This would really be so much easier if I was just horny._

But his ruminations got thrown outside into the pool when he heard something. The friction of a footstep. And something else? Steve knew the sound of a body moving around, but in the darkness of night, the brain sure liked to swerve wide from logic. There was only he and Billy in this damn house, and Steve refused to pile stupid horror movie terror on top of his heap of issues—

“Billy?” he tried. His voice came out weaker than he intended, and a whole lot more scared than he wanted to be audible. He began to push himself up while trying to stay quiet. Even the rustle of his legs against the sheets made it hard to hear. But the silence on the other side of the door was loud. The negative space of a body.

“Billy?”

“Steve?”

Billy’s voice sounded…raw. Husky in an exhausted way, with something…fragile underneath it. Steve felt slick drip between his thighs the same time his gut twisted. His whole body reacted, concerned and yearning…

_“Billy.”_

The alpha opened the door, answering his omega with a tentative step into the room before he saw Steve halfway sitting up, beginning to reach for him. The door blew wide enough for Billy to get through and slam it closed. His glands itched at the pheromones in the air. A growl rumbled in his chest, only to trip into a whine as Steve’s arms caught him.

Billy threw himself into the bed, scooping Steve up and burying himself down against him. The collision pushed a sound out of Steve, who couldn’t help it melting into a vocal sigh as a fresh wave of _Billy_ washed over him, filling his lungs. Or the moan as Billy pulled the collar of his robe out of the way to plant messy kisses along his shoulder and licked over his gland, up his neck. Steve’s head fell back onto the bed, completely open to his alpha’s mouth.

“Billy…” he sighed. Pleaded.

Billy’s lips were on his, soft and warm and it was all Steve could do, to keep up. A hand came up to hold the side of Steve’s head, and then traveled the long line of his neck. He palmed Steve’s chest while fingers tilted into the confines of his robe.

“Steve? Steve…” the alpha breathed exasperation and relief. “Are you naked under this?”

“It’s too hot,” he said by way of confirmation. And it was only getting hotter with Billy here. The alpha had long since done away with shirts as well, officially radiating body heat, and ever so slightly rutting against him. His body moved with his kisses, but Steve knew the heaviness in Billy’s pants couldn’t go ignored.

And…he didn’t really want to ignore it this time.

With a heave of strength that impressed the both of them, Steve gripped the alpha and rolled them over so Steve lay on top. Billy’s voice escaped with his sigh as Steve straddled him. His hands immediately found Steve’s waist through the thick material of the towel robe, but Steve just wanted to kiss him and kiss him. So that’s what he did, while intermittently asking, “Mm, how far…do you want…to go?”

“All the way, baby,” he grinned drunkenly with Steve’s mouth on his neck. His arms moved up for his hands to cradle the back of Steve’s head. “Let me taste you.”

His tongue slid into Steve’s mouth, and the omega’s full weight lounged on top of him. Billy loved this, being surrounded and weighed down, his arms full. He was able to let Steve slow their kisses into languid movements of tongue and lips without feeling like he was running out of something. Steve’s arms framed his head, a large hand stroking his hair off his face like Billy was worth fussing over. He liked the tenderness of Steve’s palm and fingers on his temples, his hairline. He felt a little fragile, cradled in those hands. Which made his cock pulse against Steve.

Billy exhaled his name, reveling in the kisses and little nips of teeth on his neck and chest as Steve traveled down. Fingers hooked under his waistband and he felt the open air against his erection, the head wet with precum. Billy’s voice moaned with each breath before he realized it, becoming aware of how needy he sounded.

“Huh…Steve, Steve…hmm…”

Billy didn’t know what he expected, but seeing Steve reach between his own legs for slick, and then pump it over his cock was not it. His smell mixed with Steve’s and he felt the lubricant slip over his balls. He couldn’t help but laugh with the new understanding of what Steve dealt with. Being wet and dripping and messy—

Billy lurched a little at the feeling of Steve’s hot mouth around his cockhead. His hand found a thigh in the robe, but Steve moved a firm grip over Billy’s base. His knot. All of him clenched, over sensitive and raw. Frayed nerves and sculpted muscles at Steve’s mercy. Billy felt like a live wire, and the laving of Steve’s mouth made him glow and dim like a light bulb with every bob of his head.

Steve’s mouth focused on his head, but his hands worked everywhere else. One stroked the shaft while the other rotated a thumb around Billy’s knot. It was all too much and not enough.

“Steve—ah! Stop trying to be nice about it. I need more.”

“You can wait.”

Billy’s head shot up. “What?”

The bastard grinned up at him even though his eyes looked like he’d smoked a pound of weed: dark, heady, and unfocused. Moving Billy’s dick up, he mouthed at his balls and pushed Billy’s knees out, opening his thighs so he could kneel between them. Billy had never been with someone eager to do the work down there; he would consider this a nice change if he didn’t feel about to explode from both heads.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked.

“So long as you keep going. Don’t be a tease.”

Steve ignored that to ease up onto a hand and his knees, opening himself for his other hand to gather more slick. Seeing all of Steve inside that open robe made Billy’s jaw go slack and his mouth water. His erection visibly pulsed with his heartbeat.

Steve’s warm and lubricated fingertips touched Billy’s entrance. “I mean, is this okay?”

“Steve…” The omega blinked heavily up at him when his hand clumsily reached to stroke his face. “I’m not some alpha who’s afraid of his own ass. Come back up here and kiss me first.”

He definitely meant to say something naughtier, but his cock, heart, and useless brain all wanted to taste Steve, and fuck Steve, and make him drink some water first, and lick him till his ass was clean, and—

Steve’s slick was on his lips. A deep purr all but growled from Billy’s chest as he pushed his fingers into the hair on Steve’s nape. He licked those lips, into his mouth, and rasped, _“I wanna taste that everyday.”_

Throaty giggles bubbled out of Steve, making Billy wonder if he was the only one at such a level of heated delirium. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve kissed his mouth, and moved to the side for his cheek.

“I mean it,” he insisted as Steve moved back down his body.

“I know.”

“Then why are you laughing like you don’t believe it?”

Steve sagged a little, like his strength failed until he placed a hand on Billy’s chest to push himself back up. “My ass doesn’t always taste like cotton candy.”

“I’ll have to find out for myself later,” Billy muttered cockily. Then he blinked at the ceiling. They hadn’t talked about what things would be like after their heats were over—

And it could wait, because Steve’s mouth was hot on his dick and two fingers pushed right inside. Billy exhaled loudly, lifting his pelvis so it tilted for better access. The pressure of being filled on one side proved a nice compliment to the need to explode on the other.

But Steve’s slick mixing with his glands was _doing_ things to him. Coating his insides and sending a potent wave of hormones right to his brain. Suddenly, he was hot all over as if he’d been cold before; molten heat traveled through his veins, making him want to _move_.

And as if Steve knew, he popped off his erection to bite— _hard_ —on his inner thigh the same time he pushed his fingers toward the front of his body, guaranteed to stroke over all the delicious places inside of him.

A little spurt of cum glistened on his belly, but it wasn’t enough. Billy didn’t know what other tricks Steve had but Steve needed to stay in control of this or Billy might truly spin like a top. “ _Again!_ ” he breathed raggedly. Husky. “Hah! Do that again baby…”

Steve’s fingers worked relentlessly inside of him. His other hand gripped the back of Billy’s knee, lifting his leg so he could bit the tender, sensitive back of his other thigh. And no sooner did Steve abandon Billy’s ass, then he slid that hand up his shaft, back down, and gripped his knot.

Billy bucked into his hand, pushing his engorging knot into Steve’s palm as he came and came and came. Steve’s hand rocked over his knot without sliding, tactfully pumping the area to stimulate the braided threads of cum still working out of Billy. The alpha had the experience of watching Steve lower himself over Billy’s pelvis, as if he might lick the pearly fluid off of him—

Steve bit the soft little love handle right above Billy’s hipbone, and then collapsed on his side.

Normally an orgasm that wrung Billy out would have his bones feeling like jelly and his muscles little more than goo. But he touched Steve’s hair, and then dug his hands under his armpits to drag him up the bed. After situating his head on a pillow, Billy petted Steve’s hair and neck, cooing softly before he realized…

This is what alpha’s _do_.

They purr and whine for their mate to wake up. They rut with enough energy to…maybe… _not_ keep up with an omega…but to take care of them.

As Billy planted delicate kisses over Steve’s face, making sure his robe was open to let his body temperature out, and purring, _“Steve…Steve…”_ he felt invigorated in a way he never had before. He felt needy and somehow whole at the same time.

Steve’s eyes moved under the lids, which Billy shouldn’t even be able to _see_ in the middle of the night, but his rut granted him whatever he needed for his omega. “Slowly, baby. Wake up slowly…”

He could hear a dry swallow and see Steve’s lips move. Then he shivered under the sound of Billy’s purrs.

And answered with his omega voice, _“Billy?”_

That quiet whine lodged in the alpha’s chest. He kissed Steve’s face more, first his forehead and ending at his lips. Over and over on his lips, relief spilling through him that Steve kissed back, softly.

“Baby,” he whispered, thumbs stroking over Steve’s cheeks, “drink some water for me?”

Steve nodded against his lips. Billy left a lingering kiss there before grabbing the cups off the bedside table. As he waited for them to fill at the filtered spout on the fridge, the tense panic from before had drained from his body. The panic was gone, but none of the pull that moved his steps quickly back to Steve. He waited to drink his own after helping Steve sit up enough to drain most of his cup.

Billy began to slide his legs under the covers when he reconsidered, “Are you hungry? What do you need?”

Steve’s eyes had closed, but he inhaled deeply to say, “Put me on your chest.”

He didn’t know what to do with that until a smile tugged at the side of his mouth. Lying down on the bed, Billy got comfortable before he scooped the top half of Steve against him. Robe in disarray, and both of them fit for a decent shower, neither of them moved apart from Steve’s pushing a leg over Billy’s.

“You’re making me breakfast,” he moaned.

Billy smiled in their nest. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm nervous because this is shorter than the chapters have been haha but I'm so eager to have written for these two again <3
> 
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	7. Nest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took the chapter total off because I don't know how far we're going haha

Billy made the largest stack of pancakes he’d ever seen with the premade batter from the fridge. Wearing Steve’s robe. With Steve’s taste in his mouth.

When Billy awoke, he had officially needed a shower before anything else. Steve slept soundly, and Billy could get the job done in record time. He soaped all over, rinsed off, and emerged in a towel for his clothes, which had thankfully not changed rooms…

Then he got distracted by Steve lying front down on the bed, the covers all the way down by his knees. The robe had long since been kicked to the floor, much like Billy’s sweatpants. Billy crawled onto the bed and over him, starting with a long inhalation at Steve’s hair. He was due for a shower too, even though he still smelled of soap and conditioner from his last one.

Billy liked his stink. He buried his face against the bend of Steve’s neck and shoulder, inhaling the raw scent of _Steve_. It changed a little, the way sweat does if it sits long enough to smell. Billy more than happily licked a tongue over the gland, circling the sensitive tissue to stimulate it enough to make Steve move and moan in his sleep. Billy licked the gland clean, kissing all around it when he inhaled that fresh, warm, and sweet smell again.

 _“Steve,”_ he whispered, tugging on his ear with his teeth.

“Hhh…” Steve’s shoulder hitched and his hand flopped against Billy’s hair. He reacted to the soaked tendrils—“Mgh. Wet.”—and tucked his arm underneath his body.

“If you don’t wake up, you’ll sleep through me eating you out.”

He received another mumbled response. Billy began a line of loud, soft kisses starting from Steve’s nape. Sometimes the omega hummed the same time Billy’s lips touched his skin, but by the time Billy’s hands circled his waist and he mouthed at the Venus dimples framing his spine, Steve was able to mumble, “Hm? Billy?”

 _“I’m right here,”_ he thrummed, and pushed aside one of Steve’s cheeks to lick all the way up. The omega lurched up a little, enough for his exclamation of surprise to not get buried in his pillow.

Then Billy just…paused, savoring the slick on his tongue and having his sinuses full of concentrated omega essence—

Steve’s breathy exclamation was coupled with a languid sigh as he relaxed on the bed again. “That feels kinda nice.”

Billy grinned like he was a bottle deep in wine. “Yeah?”

Steve nodded against his pillow. “Mm hm.”

The alpha was happy to oblige, and he ate his fill. His tongue moved sloppily around Steve’s entrance, saliva mixing with slick as his mouth caught a fresh stream—

Fingers touched Billy’s head—a warning—but Steve shuddered, too late and unable to stop the slick from leaving him. “S-Sorry.”

A low growl resonated out of Billy’s chest, making Steve tremble and melt back onto his pillow, gasping against the bite to his ass cheek. Billy squeezed the backs of his thighs, massaging as another bubble of lubricant sloughed out of him. Billy realized, like an out of body experience, that he was purring— _loudly_. It was no secret that alphas _could_ purr, but as he opened his mouth to lick and taste and show the omega how far from uncomfortable or disgusted he was, Billy’s volume took him by surprise.

He laughed, breathy and husky as he said, “Jesus, I’m loud.”

Steve tucked his chin to peek back at him. “I like your sound.”

His rumble returned, twofold, as Billy planted messy kisses on Steve’s lumbar, those dimples, and the rise of his ass. He journeyed back to Steve’s entrance, the tip of his tongue circling and teasing the opening, making his wants known. But Steve spent the time sighing with each new _zing_ of sensation Billy caused.

“How do you feel, baby?”

“Good,” came Steve’s tired, morning-weak response.

Billy kissed his ass cheek. “And inside? Too sore for me to taste there too?”

Steve tilted enough for him to hike a knee up as he looked back at Billy. He shook his head but said, “No fingers.”

A grin flashed on the alpha’s face. “Yes, dear,” and he dove in.

Only to retract his tongue at the feeling of Steve stretching, opening, giving space for him easily. Steve moved further up the bed, but Billy didn’t have the best vantage point to see how he was doing. Proceeding with more care, Billy licked inside of him. The first, slow stroke of many, he pet the inside, soft, slippery lining of Steve until he spiraled his tongue like a clock hand…

Steve made a different sound as he rutted ever so gently against Billy’s face. The alpha’s tongue finished its rotation, and started a new one. That wanton and exhausted sound rushed out of Steve, his voice sweet and honest.

“That’s where your knot goes,” he gasped. “It’s sensitive.”

Billy’s purrs rumbled right into him, causing the omega to move a fist over his mouth while he trembled. Hunkering down, Billy kneed open the towel around his hips so he could better sit and hold Steve’s hips, encouraging the little thrusts against his mouth and the bed. As much as Billy enjoyed tasting him and tantalizing whatever he could reach, he noticed how Steve pushed back when his tongue pushed towards the front of his body.

So he stayed there, thrusting and licking and even pushing so Steve would get the hint and move however he wanted to—

Steve’s fingers reaching underneath his pelvis to touch the underside of Billy’s jaw startled him. “Give me your hand.”

Billy didn’t know what the goal was, but he let Steve pull and turn one of his palms to cradle his balls and—Billy discovered—a much smaller omega knot at the base of Steve’s length. When Billy tried to stroke his penis, Steve tightened his overlapping hand. “No! Stay there…your hand’s soft…”

There, on Billy’s hand and on his mouth, Steve rutted to completion. Billy knew he came hard, because he kept going, sighing a sweet, lofty sound as he rocked with each wave of his orgasm.

Steve released his hand, and Billy eased up to wipe his face on his towel. His tongue and lips tingled numbly from overuse, but he hardly cared when Steve’s tired fingers waved him up the bed. When Steve draped an arm and leg around the alpha to draw him close. When he felt Steve’s cum on his own stomach as thankful kisses moved over his face. Steve didn’t shy away when Billy aimed for his mouth, tasting himself on Billy’s swollen, tired lips.

“This bed is getting ruined,” the latter mumbled when Steve settled on the pillow, just nose to nose with him.

“There’s fresh sheets in the…” Steve exhaled as he waved a finger in the general direction of what Billy assumed would be a closet outside of the bedroom.

And then the loudest stomach grumble opened both young men’s eyes wide. Steve’s eyes darted into the pillow and back to Billy’s face, waiting for the demands for food to subside before he crumbled into giggles.

“Holy shit,” Billy laughed with him. Steve’s hand momentarily covered his face before he abandoned the effort. Billy was glad for it. Steve’s unadulterated grin looked good on him. Cute.

“Can you shower? I’ll replace the sheets and make breakfast.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. If you help me up.”

Billy, with an arm around Steve’s waist, took him all the way to the bathroom before doubling back for Steve’s robe. In between pancake flips, he rummaged the bedding closet as well as loaded the discarded sheets into the laundry room downstairs.

And promptly decided that Steve’s nest needed work. This whole closet full of down-filled comforters, and the omega wasn’t making use of them? Sure, in a heated house during a marathon of hormones, they hardly needed the help, but Billy treated himself to the premade batter in the fridge as well as the closet.

His attention only briefly lingered on the IV drip stand shoved to the side with the towels. The metal shined like it was new; the only indication of its age being the multitude of stickers plastered messily over it: faded comic book characters, Pac-Man and the ghosts, peeling onomatopoeias, scratch-n-sniffs, and sparkly Mickey Mouses littered the thing. The sound of water moving through the pipes in the wall refocused Billy to the task at hand.

When Steve landed on the bed like a kid landing in a pile of leaves, he raised no complaint. As gorgeous as his butt looked in the middle of it all, Billy poked it to make Steve move. “Drink this.”

“Stop it,” he smacked the hard finger away but accepted the cup of water. His eyes landed on the platter of pancakes and its accompanying bowl of syrup. Out of some sense of decorum, Steve slid his legs under the covers before they began their breakfast in bed. Billy was glad that he hadn’t bothered to bring forks; they rolled the cakes like pizza slices and dipped them in the syrup.

Billy honestly thought he’d be taking an unfinished plate of food back to the kitchen.

Steve proved him wrong.

He wasn’t even done with his last pancake before he asked, “Do you want to get a smoothie out? The blender cups are on the fridge door. It just needs to be mixed up.”

Billy found the row of premade smoothies easily enough. He set it on the blender mount to mix the separated layers. The contents were extremely green, but smelled like tropical fruit. Steve had given up on scolding Billy about the food, since he showed up with the smoothie split between two cups. The alpha’s gaze flicked to Steve’s toes moving under the covers, pointing and flexing to whatever melody played through his head. Cute.

He only made it through half of his smoothie before his body dictated he slump down into the nest. Billy put their cups on the bedside table only to get a poke in the thigh for it. “Pills.”

“What?”

“Your pills.”

“I can take them at any time.”

“You’ll forget,” Steve declared, looking like a dismembered head on the pillow.

“Don’t think you’re the boss of me.”

That head dragged back and forth as he shook his head, food drunk. “I won’t kiss you till you take ‘emMUH!”

Layers of bedclothes saved Billy from Steve’s flailing limbs in the wake of Billy’s mouth landing on his. Giggles bubbled into guffaws as Billy peppered kisses on his mouth and then his neck, his neglected stubble tickling and stabbing wild yelps of mirth out of him. Billy moved under the covers, slotting himself over Steve, who pawed helplessly against him, totally weak in the throes of his giggles.

Billy made it down to Steve’s chest before angling himself to torment the gland he hadn’t cleaned yet. Of course Steve had taken care of it in the shower, but his laughter melted into deep sighs against Billy’s tongue. Gasped against the flat of his teeth scraping beside the gland. Their pelvises had aligned before they realized it, Billy’s hand reaching for his erection only to grasp both. Steve’s leg hooked behind his knee, and Billy quickly did away with the robe before he was trapped in it.

Throwing it on the floor, Billy captured Steve’s mouth and thrust against him in one motion. Steve reached for his length, his other hand on Billy’s waist as the latter moved to reciprocate—

“No, just you.”

“I don’t want it to be just me,” Billy murmured huskily against his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Steve cooed with a kiss to his jaw. He made a sound, like he intended to say more, but he pushed his face into Billy’s hair and inhaled deeply. His voice came out quiet. “You smell a little different.”

“I showered here,” Billy reminded, not intending to be so blunt, but the tickle of Steve’s nose and lips dusting across his gland were making him see tiny stars.

“I like it…and I miss it.”

Billy scoffed gently into Steve’s hair and pillow. “Are you telling me to shower again with my own soap?”

“Did you bring any?”

“I’m not giving that an answer.”

A laugh huffed out of Steve as he came back down to his pillow. Billy’s hand brushed over his hairline, his palm almost cool against Steve’s temple. The pad of his thumb followed the line of Steve’s brow. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Steve’s features relaxed as he blinked up at him. Blue eyes flicked onto the adam’s apple bobbing with his swallow. “It was good… It was really good. I just…can’t rev my engine like that as often. Like now, I could be stimulated, but I won’t cum.”

Billy hummed over that, a finger stroking Steve’s cheekbone. “The stove gets hot but the water doesn’t boil.”

Steve scoffed. “I’m a bowl of pasta. Thanks.”

“You likened me to a car.”

“For some reason I don’t think you minded.”

Billy’s face scrunched up mockingly one second, and then in the next, Steve hollered at the ceiling during the loud raspberry against his cheek. “Mm! _Wwhyyyyy?_ ” he whined through his smushed cheeks being sandwiched between Billy’s hand and face.

The alpha landed on his side with a great huff, bouncing the mattress and somehow pulling Steve even more against him. “I’ll get my rocks off somehow,” he taunted above tangled legs. He pushed himself so much underneath Steve it was like he meant to occupy the same place on the bed.

“I don’t mind doing that stuff for you,” he said pointedly, feeling like a spider with too many limbs in a little spoon position.

“Steve. You passed out last time.”

Billy liked that he kept his head turned over his shoulder to face him. He could see those big eyes wander as Steve considered that and responded, “Yeah, so?”

“ _So_ , I’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of what’s supposed to happen.”

His features slumped a little before he tilted to look at him more easily. “What do you mean? Most people fall asleep after…”

“Yeah, voluntarily. _Not_ because we’re exhausted from it. We’re not rabbits.”

He watched that land and its effect on Steve’s face; the surprise, mixed with a little bit of thoughtful, and then sad. Billy made a point to kiss his shoulder before saying, “Nancy never called you out for sleeping afterwards?”

Steve avoided his gaze. His arms moved over Billy’s, but he didn’t remove them from resting over them. “No.”

Billy tried to keep his amusement to a minimum. “Huh. Most girls don’t like that. Plus, I’d have expected so much pillow talk from you that I would’ve called an ambulance if you passed out on me outside of a heat.”

Steve’s eyes rolled but only to dodge Billy’s attention. “I don’t need to feel worse about that.”

That. Meaning, Nancy Wheeler.

Billy didn’t like where this had gone. He pushed his face into Steve’s hair so he could nuzzle without scratching with his stubble. “You don’t need to feel anything about it. New rule: don’t talk about other alphas in bed.”

His head jerked to him. “You brought it up.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.”

A hard blink before a tiny grin flashed on his face. “Yes, you did.”

“I’m egotistical and wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh,” Steve scoffed, the moment passing, “you’re right—”

He gasped at Billy’s pinching his belly, “Hey! Be nice. There’s a lot in there.”

But Billy’s purr was soft and quiet in his throat as he cupped Steve’s face again to bring him close. He kissed his cheek, and just…pressed his nose there.

And much to the omega’s surprise, the alpha fell asleep right there.

* * * * *

Billy completely forgot that Steve had a phone in his room.

Until it rang, loud and shrill, and it had been shoved against the wall so it vibrated atrociously to boot.

Steve acted first, climbing enough over Billy to grab the receiver and then just lie across him while grumbling, “Hello?”

This close, Billy was able to hear his own sister’s voice. “Hi, Steve? It’s Max. I’m really sorry to do this—”

He groaned and sighed tiredly, “Don’t be sorry. What’s wrong? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Billy overheard. “It’s just…our parents think Billy’s still giving me rides this week. My mom said something last night that hinted she would be home early today… I can’t trust her to not snitch, so… I need Billy to drive me home. I don’t like it either.”

Steve frowned. “Are you on the school’s payphone?”

“Yeah. School lets out in twenty minutes. Can I get an answer before a teacher jumps on me for skipping class?”

“Yeah, yeah, Billy will be there—”

“No, Billy won’t,” the alpha’s head lifted.

 _“He’ll be there,”_ Steve repeated firmly, “but you need to haul ass to his car.”

“Got it,” she finished, and Steve struggled to get the phone back on its hub.

Billy manhandled him back across the bed to scold, “Why’d you promise shit like that?”

Steve gaped at him like he was the one out of line. “Because she’s just asking for a ride? I’d go if I could drive. You actually have the stamina.”

“What she should’ve done is gone to a friend’s house and had a parent drop her off like any other kid does after school.”

Jaw slack and eyes wandering, Steve thought over that before admitting, “Oh.”

But it was too late now. Billy had never been more upset over getting dressed in his entire life. His jeans might as well have scraped his skin and his shirt been a collar around his neck. _And_ he had to drive through town with his glands wide open. Which, in November, meant that Max would be getting into a hotbox of alpha hormones for her drive home.

 _Good damn riddance,_ he thought bitterly, grabbing his keys and making for the garage.

Steve called after him, “My garage door opener is in my car!”

Billy didn’t answer. He could only grimace against the itch of his neck as he closed his jacket around himself and shut the house behind him. He didn’t really need the outer layer, but showing up to the school in jeans and a t-shirt might be a bit much. He grabbed Steve’s garage door opener off his visor, and felt the minutes already inching by as he waited for the door to rise.

* * * * *

Max’s friends stood huddled by the bike racks while she skated to the car. The board clapped asphalt the same time she opened the passenger door—

“Oh my god,” she blanched, holding a hand over her mouth and nose as the door almost closed with its own weight.

 _“Get in,”_ Billy ordered. “This is your own fault.”

“I didn’t mean to invite your rut on the whole town. Jesus,” she exclaimed, dropping into her seat hardly an instant before Billy peeled out of the lot. “You could’ve said so on the phone.”

“No, I couldn’t, because if _I’d_ answered the phone, it would’ve been torn out of the wall. How about we don’t talk.”

She silently agreed, cracking her window for a stream of fresh air. In no time at all and too much time, the Camaro pulled alongside the curb of their house. Their parents parked around back, so there was no indication that this trip had been worth it at all.

Max couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, but as soon as she stood up, she rotated to ask, “Is Steve okay?”

Billy frowned at her like he hadn’t quite heard her right. “What?”

Her eyes did the thing where they don’t roll so much as slide hard to one side. “We learned a lot about omega stuff from Will. Me and the others were wondering if he’s okay.”

Billy wasn’t sure whether to feel endearment or insult. “He’s fine. Better than fine, so long as you don’t call the house again. Go to a friend’s place.”

She threw the door closed, not dignifying that with an answer beyond hoping that he choked a little on his own smell. Just a little.

Billy’s throat moved dryly when he swallowed, turning out of his neighborhood and using the side roads to avoid the school bus routes. He felt ready to drain the melted slushie still sitting in a watering can in Steve’s room—if he didn’t collapse in their nest first. The latter seemed far more imminent. Sweating and itching, Billy moved his hand over his mouth repeatedly, stifling and willing his voice to stay quiet while Max was in the car. But without her, his alpha whine escaped as he grimaced through adjusting his weight on the seat.

He nearly left his car in the driveway, both for the sake of getting inside faster and so he didn’t accidentally knock his front bumper off on the garage stairs. But he managed, somehow, and burst into the house with a lot of noise between the garage door closing and him slamming the house door.

“Billy?” came Steve’s voice, only it sounded a bit clearer than it should have been if he was—

The alpha rounded the corner and there was Steve, at the top of the stairs. Billy could see his discomfort in the way he held his robe around himself, like just standing up caused his whole core to cramp up.

“Stay there,” Billy ordered, kicking off his shoes and taking the stairs two at a time. The closer he came, the more he saw red in Steve’s complexion and wet shininess on his cheeks. A vein in his forehead bulged like he’d been holding his breath. Or crying.

A sob broke from him when Billy crested the stairs and collided with him, arms tight around his waist as his own went around Billy’s neck. The alpha shuddered and clutched at Steve like he would keep him afloat in turbulent water. Stroking Steve’s hair and burying his face against his neck, Billy pleaded, _“Don’t make me do that again.”_

“I’m sorry,” Steve gasped, crying anew. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”

“What?” Billy breathed incredulously, rising to hold Steve’s head in his hands so he couldn’t hide. “Why?”

Steve shook his head, sniffling. The back of Billy’s brain noted for later how Steve was a beautifully ugly crier. And then the front smacked that train of thought down in favor of tasting those tears. Make Steve’s salt his own.

“You were so mad when you left.”

“ ‘Course I was mad. I didn’t want to leave. _You made me leave_.”

“If a kid needs a ride—”

“I don’t care.” He shook his head, bumping their noses and doing it anyway. Their lips got smushed in the middle, and he begged, _“I don’t care.”_

Fresh tears raced to meet Billy’s thumbs wiping them away. “You realize this makes you an asshole.”

“What’re you going to do about it?” he challenged, but earned a laugh for it. Steve held onto him as he turned them back toward Steve’s room. Toward their nest.

Steve sniffed again, sparing a hand to wipe his face. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back, because I said no.”

“What? I’m not mad you said no.”

“Sure, _now_ ,” Steve emphasized as Billy closed the door behind them. He held the back of the robe for Steve to step right out of it and collapse inside their nest. “But I’ll say no a lot.”

“Steve,” Billy grumbled in the cramped space of his shirt being yanked over his head, “I get mad at a lot of things. But saying _no_ isn’t one of them. I’m not going to be one of—one of _those_ people. Not me.”

Steve’s head rested on the pillow while Billy undressed, but he didn’t really see him, as a tear moved over the bridge of his nose to soak into the pillowcase. Billy tried not to enjoy this too much as he climbed into bed and moved in close: Steve’s looking like a beaten puppy at the notion of Billy leaving permanently. But, _wow_ , did his heart swell and take a punch at the same time.

He stroked the hair off of Steve’s ear and neck. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Sniffle. He nodded, tucking his chin a little. “I tried. A little.”

Billy’s irises wandered his face, trying and failing to figure that out. “A little what?”

He swallowed thickly. “Opening myself up. Seeing if I can take something—anything. I’m…not ready yet.”

A number of things clashed in Billy’s brain. Predominantly, the back of his throat felt sore for some reason, which he really didn’t want to analyze. So he went with, “Thank Christ. I’m exhausted.”

He pushed all the way into Steve’s space, getting a puzzled, “Huh?”

“Put me on your chest.”

Steve giggled a wet and congested, “Oh,” and let Billy tuck himself underneath his jaw, wrapped around his omega’s torso.

“If it makes you feel better, I almost bulldozed two old Cadillacs to get back here.”

Steve snorted delicately. “Guess I can’t let you go anywhere. You’re a hazard.”

Before Billy could say anything, Steve’s stomach demanded a new feast. It growled so strongly that he felt the little vibrations. “What day is it?”

“I don’t know. Three? Two? Three.”

Billy sighed. “That’s really something.”

“I told you I eat a lot.”

“Yeah, but who’s going to get it?”

“ _Billy_ ,” his omega whined. And then grasped his shoulder hard enough to elicit a smack sound. "Your pills!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Achievements unlocked: Crybaby Steve and Needy/Clingy Alpha.  
> And Billy, for the love of dessert, take your friggin' antibiotics.  
> 
> 
> [Twitter~](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums)  
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